From their record label’s website, “As the world turns more modern with every second, THE GREAT SEA tries to hold something dear that seems to fade out: The origin of mankind in its most primordial way, with the burden of aeons on our back. With the feeling of what once was and a touch of what should never be forgotten they strife through powerful aggression and sentimental bereavement, without repeating what has said so many times before. Through the waters of forgetfulness, their debut-record glitters through frost, fallen leaves and the restless waves. This record is a journey to find yourself rooted back to where mankind belongs: home.”

The album has seven songs, and “The Water Remains” is first. It has a slow lead-in of drums, an unassuming riff, and meaty bass notes. It turns much darker with the advent of harsh vocals and distorted guitars, and the sound thickens considerably. From there, despondent sounds increase, until they fill up around you and pull you under. “Eden Unfolded” is deeper, darker, and much angrier, and the guitars and drums hold a steady presence that sounds like a swarm of killer bees. The desolate tones are even worse, and are so weighted, you can even lift yourself out of bed. “The Maze” is another song that rumbles with heaviness and sounds like an earthquake, or even a tsunami. It contains all of the rage, hate, and anger you feel into one song.

“No Peace Among Men” is another weighted song, and it’s weighted with pure anguish. The tones are frigid, and lifeless in some places. For me, it’s a reminder of how fucked up things are down here on earth. “Fading” is a short reprieve from some of the earlier contention. It’s just over a minute of tension, and ominous tones. “Upright in Nothing” hears the maelstrom of a storm continue, and it’s hard to imagine this level of sustained intensity. There is a brief pause, while somber clean guitars roll up to the shore, but the sky is still black and churning violently. “Walking at the Edge of Death” closes the album, and isn’t short on either aggression or melody. The two peacefully co-exist, although the aggression keeps pushing, and in the end, it overtakes the melody decidedly.

“Noble Art of Desolation” does not leave the listener with relief—it leaves them numb, hollow, and haunted. This is an album that doesn’t just sound dark—it feels like darkness itself, an experience so intense and consuming that it lingers long after the music has stopped. It is mentally exhaustive in every sense, and for those willing to endure it, it is also unforgettable.