REVIEW: MONO - Snowdrop
- Noise Leonard
- 17 minutes ago
- 4 min read
The passing of Steve Albini in 2024 was a shock for the entirety of the music world, no less Japanese post-rock group MONO, who he had worked closely alongside for the best part of twenty years - ever since 2004’s Walking Cloud and Deep Red Sky, Flag Fluttered and the Sun Shined. Going into the upcoming Snowdrop, with a key player missing, it almost feels like a necessity to pay tribute to this long-time partnership with the man who helped bring their most iconic albums to life.
So, when creating this album, MONO chose Brad Wood to produce the album, and specifically chose to record it in Albini’s Electrical Audio. Wood has most recently worked on the new SUNN O))) record, and has previously worked with groups like MEWITHOUTYOU. So it’s a great choice; he’s clearly somebody very familiar with what could be described as sonic monoliths, and the push-and-pull feel of post-rock as a genre.

This is immediately clear from the opening moments of title track Snowdrop, as the hum of a sustained note played on a synth accents the softly-picked guitars in the background, gradually building up to a cacophonous, cinematic crescendo in the second half of the song. Soaring, tremolo-picked guitars and a massive string section elegantly wrap themselves around each other until finally giving out, returning to the calm familiarity of the opening seconds of the song. All the while, the feedback from the distorted guitars still lingers. It’s almost like a feeling that never goes away, and the quiet acceptance of said feeling. It’s a beautiful metaphor for grief from the very start.
The second and third tracks were both released prior to the album. The first of the two on the tracklist, Winter Daphne, wastes no time and opens on a blazing barrage of distorted guitars, pounding drums, reminiscent of something in between post-rock and post-hardcore. This is all before the strings come in and introduce the main motif that will appear in a much more muted, melancholy form in the second half. The almost enraged feel of the first half fizzles out as fast as it appeared, with the final crescendo being a more meditative feeling version of the start. Gerbera is the complete opposite, breaking out of the icy feel of the opening two tracks, and instead opting to replace it with an uplifting piece. The string section is placed right at the front of the mix for much of the almost eight-minute runtime, accented by backing vocals performed by an eight-piece choir. It all comes to a head in the SIGUR RÓS-esque climax, just utterly filled with hope and optimism.
You may have noticed that each track, even the album itself, are all named after various flowers. This is an intentional decision from the band - “we incorporated the messages imbued in flowers given to those who have passed into the titles of our songs”, they say on their website. It is an album explicitly about grief for those who have passed. We hear it on the gorgeously bittersweet and emotive guitars on Statice, as well as the despondent melodies at the start of Hedera, which is followed by an elongated crescendo which can only be described as like a phoenix rising from the ashes. It’s there on the noisy, distortion-heavy Shion, with its percussive backdrop having the most depth on the record by far, and Bells of Ireland is the most outwardly sad song on the album, opening on church bells and consisting mostly of the string section we’ve grown to love at this point and a piano with a sort of twinkle to it. It feels like a funeral march.
All this sets up the final track on the album, Farewell to Spring. Beginning on this slightly disorientating, chilly synthwork, the song finds its footing again about a minute in, as the drums slowly become clearer, and the guitar comes in, slowly gaining in ferocity, and becoming tremolo-picked as we reach the first peak of the piece. It doesn’t last long, but the brief moment where the string section and choir comes in is utterly transcendent. It pulls away again for a moment, before bringing all of the instrumentation together and more. Just when you think it’s done pulling punches, ascends further, the choir sings these gorgeous high notes, a distorted guitar is introduced, and it reaches a height not yet seen in this album. As it slowly recedes over the final two minutes, we’re left to consider what we’ve just heard.
After so long, it’s safe to say that MONO are extremely reliable post-rockers. Even just MONO by-the-numbers is bound to be worth a listen. This album does more than that - it sticks to an emotion as raw and universal as grief, and manages to describe many of its facets wordlessly. You can tell while listening that the band cared deeply about conveying this feeling, and hopefully, you’ll agree that they succeeded.
Score: 8/10
Snowdrop will be released on 12th June 2026 via Temporary Residence.
Words: Noise Leonard
Photos: Carlos Cruz