REVIEW: Daniel Meyer - Kneeling

Best known for his work as a guitarist and vocalist in transcendental black metal outfit Agriculture, Daniel Meyer’s solo debut Kneeling is a deeply immersive and texturally rich experience. Unlike Agriculture’s cathartic, soaring compositions, Kneeling is more intimate and experimental, embracing imperfections and layering sound to create a thick, almost tactile atmosphere. Split into two distinct halves, the album first explores an off-kilter, lo-fi indie rock approach before descending into dense, atmospheric black metal. Meyer describes the album as “huge piles” of sound, an approach that makes Kneeling feel both expansive and claustrophobic at the same time.

The first half of the album leans into hazy indie rock, with songs wrapped in biblical allegory and distorted recollections. The production is deliberately rough around the edges, layering multiple takes over each other to create something that feels alive and constantly shifting. Opening track 'Ugly Man' sets the tone immediately. The vocals sound distant, as if coming from the other side of a wall, while the cymbals crash in an erratic, almost disorienting pattern. The subject matter - a surreal imagining of biblical punishment being inflicted upon Ron Jeremy - adds to the song’s off-kilter energy.

'16 Angels' is one of the album’s most striking tracks, feeling mournful and deeply reflective. Meyer’s vocals drift softly through the mix, creating an almost hypnotic effect, like watching light dance on the surface of a lake. The lyrics, which depict a man donating blood to a group of angels, give the song a dreamlike, ritualistic quality. When the guitar solo finally pierces through the haze, its sharpness feels like a wound, cutting through the otherwise meditative atmosphere.

The final song of Side A, 'Sacrificing a Calf', is deeply unsettling. Two guitars play slightly out of sync, creating a sense of unease, as if time itself is faltering. Meyer’s voice is soft and almost reassuring, but the lyrical content—a literal depiction of an Old Testament cattle sacrifice—lurks beneath the surface, making the song feel strangely ominous. Side B shifts dramatically into raw, atmospheric black metal all about LA, where Daniel abandons lyrics entirely in favor of wordless howls and screams. Meyer’s vocals blend so seamlessly into the distorted walls of guitar that they feel less like a human voice and more like another instrument, buried within the chaos.

'Blanket' feels like being trapped in a cave behind a waterfall, the sound of rushing water muffling the outside world while shadows dance across the walls. The droning guitars create an overwhelming, almost claustrophobic atmosphere, while Meyer’s vocals blend into the haze like distant echoes reverberating off the stone. There’s a sense of isolation here, a heavy, inescapable weight that settles in as the track unfolds.

In contrast, 'The Beach' introduces a sense of space. The sound of whirring machinery hums beneath gentle piano, before Meyer’s agonized cries cut through the stillness like wind howling through an abandoned house. The track captures the feeling of solitude and decay, like standing alone on a shoreline, watching the tide pull away at something long forgotten.

The album closes with 'A Great Man', an eerie and almost reverent piece. It begins with a haunting piano that echoes like a hymn in an empty cathedral. Then, midway through, Meyer’s screams shatter the stillness, turning the song into something raw and primal. It is a hauntingly beautiful end to an album that thrives on contrast, balancing moments of tranquility with overwhelming intensity.

Kneeling is a bold and unconventional debut, embracing both beauty and chaos in equal measure. Rather than blending indie rock and black metal together, Meyer keeps them separate, allowing each half of the album to fully explore its own sonic world. This separation makes the contrast between them feel even more dramatic, as if crossing from one dimension into another.

At times, the sheer density of Kneeling can feel overwhelming, particularly in the album’s second half, where the layers of distortion and droning guitars can start to blur together. However, this also feels like part of its intent - an album meant to be experienced as a whole, rather than dissected into individual songs. While its abstract approach may not be for everyone, Kneeling is a fascinating experiment in texture and atmosphere, an album that doesn’t just tell a story but makes you feel it.

Score: 7/10

Kneeling will be released on March 28th 2025 via Another Side Records.

Words: Jason De Mendonca

Photos: Daniel Meyer