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The Inward Circles, "Belated Movements for an Unsanctioned Exhumation August 1st 1984"
I can always count on Richard Skelton to find the strangest and most unexpected inspirations for his albums and he does not disappoint me with his latest: Belated Movements is largely based upon the "Lindow Man," a well-preserved body found in a peat bog in the ‘80s.  As far as ancient bog bodies go, Lindow Man surely ranks among the most hapless, having met a violent (possibly ritualistic) death by being strangled AND having his throat cut, then getting freeze-died and displayed in a museum two thousand years later.  Given that base material, it is hardly surprising that Movements is a much more sadness-steeped affair than any of Skelton’s other recent work, resembling nothing less than an atypically industrial-damaged and time-stretched requiem.
I have to admit that I was a bit caught off-guard by this album for a number of reasons.  The primary one is that it plunges wholeheartedly back into the free-floating melancholy that characterized much of Richard’s earlier work.  His more recent work has not exactly been cheery, but his career trajectory has thus far largely been away from gloom and towards something more timeless, vibrant, and organic (albeit with some exceptions, of course).  Also, Belated Movements does not particularly sound like an evolution or continuation of The Inward Circles' debut; rather, it feels kind of like an unrelated one-off project.  The only real thread linking the two is that they focus on Skelton’s more long-form compositions.  In fact, Belated Movements even raises the bar in that regard, dividing its hour-long running time into just three pieces.
The first and longest piece, "Petition for Reinterment," is the album’s funerary centerpiece.  Structurally, it is deceptively simple, as it is based primarily upon an endlessly repeating two-note cello or double-bass drone, though that framework eventually dissolves completely (just like the skeleton of a bog man!).  Later, however, it reappears somewhat changed and essentially carries on to form the basis of the second piece ("To Your Fox-Skin Chorus") as well.  The stated theme of "Petition" is "decay and renewal" and those transformations are largely where the piece’s beauty lies: not much happens melodically at all, but the glacially ebbing and flowing swells undergo some fascinating dynamic and textural changes over the course of the nearly 30-minute running time.  I was actually expecting an escalating rotting and rusting dissonance a la Michael Gordon’s deeply unsettling score for Decasia based upon Skelton's own description of the album, but instead Richard's bowed strings get increasing overloaded and blown-out sounding, as well as embellished with some grindingly metallic textures and quavering dissonances.  It all gets quite heavy and nightmarish by the time it reaches its crescendo.  That said, it is quite a slow-burning and nuanced piece, so it takes some focused attention to fully appreciate its dark majesty.  Without headphones or high volume, it loses a lot of its power.
The shorter "To Your Fox-Skin Chorus" is not radically different, but sounds a lot more metallic and industrial: there is a constant looping throb and some of Skelton’s bowed strings have an atypically harsh and more reverberant texture, like they were recorded in an empty parking garage or factory.  Those more menacing elements are balanced by something that sounds like recurring classical horn loop that makes the piece feel like a Ravel performance bleeding into a noise show held in a sewer or cavern, which is quite an appealing niche.  Eventually, "Chorus" segues into the closing "Canis, Lynx, Ursus," which makes Belated Movements feel like one single epic piece rather than three discrete ones.  "Canis" ultimately divulges quite a bit from the rest of the album, however, as its slow-motion bowed strings gradually blossom into a somber, descending piano motif.  To my ears, Skelton lays on the sadness a bit too thick for his own good, but he almost overcomes that fundamental problem by embellishing the central melody with a periphery that is a singularly Richard Skelton-esque tour de force: a churning thicket of moaning and howling strings and sharp harmonics that gradually swells to a roaring intensity.  Sadly, it never gets quite loud enough to fully drown out the piano, but it is still quite a visceral and beautiful way to end the album.
As far as recent Richard Skelton albums go, this is solid, but it falls a bit short of his truly top-shelf material: there is nothing on Belated Movements that comes close to rivaling pieces like the instantly gratifying, stone-cold brilliance of Nimrod’s "Two Opposed Leaves" or Succession’s "Relics."  Also, the oppressive sadness of "Canis, Lynx, Ursus" drags down an otherwise spectacular piece–if not the entire album, given how the three sections blur together.  That said, Skelton has long been one of my favorite artists, so I basically expect him to exclusively churn out masterpieces forever, which is completely unreasonable.  While I do not expect that mindset to change anytime soon, I can certainly accept that it colors my judgment somewhat pessimistically at times.  Despite my grumblings, Belated Movements is a perfectly fine album and takes an ambitious stylistic detour, as this is an unusually long-form and melodically minimalist album and I always love to see Skelton trying new things rather than repeating himself.  New fans would be better served by starting elsewhere, but longtime fans will definitely find plenty to enjoy here (if "enjoy" is truly the right word for elegiac meditations on the fox as psychopomp or the extinction of the lynx).
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