Sons Of Arrakis compose a pulpy reinterpretation of one of science fiction's greatest masterworks on 'Volume 1'

Long simmering in the underground, Montreal's Sons Of Arrakis have finally released their debut LP amidst a sandstorm of renewed interest in the band's inspirational source material, Frank Herbert's landmark novel, Dune.

The presciently titled Volume 1 is a substantial slab of heavy psychedelic doom accented with notable desert rock influences that serve to shake up the often obtuse and droning genre conventions with irresistible grooves and a spirited cadence. Flashes of space rock lend an otherworldly science fiction air to the earthy riffs, lifting the album beyond terrestrial tendencies to occasionally gaze in awe at the jewel encrusted canopy of infinity spinning in the black above shifting sands. It's a compelling mélange, if albeit a bit conventional at times, but the deftness of execution and deep commitment to the theme set Volume 1 up as a worthy adventure.

When Volume 1 hits, it hits hard; there are some absolutely insane grooves on this record. "Lonesome Preacher" moves in rolls and starts like a cammed V8 engine idling at the starting line, immeasurable power ready explode with unrestrained combustible force at a moment's notice, before breaking into a seriously intoxicating boogie. "Omniscient Messiah" channels the unsettling weirdness of Uncle Acid and the deadbeats, but is possessed of a loose swagger that imbues the thick stoner grooves with a touch of metal madness, like an intersection of Alice In Chains' Facelift and Mother Love Bone's heavier moments. Volume 1 also finds itself in a similar orbit with fellow sci-fi metalheads Coheed and Cambria, injecting "Abomination" with a rusty steel guitar riff and soaring vocal delivery seemingly teleported directly from The Keywork and crash landed in the vast deserts of Arrakis.

Volume 1 truly shines in it's instrumental moments. Vocals are occasionally superfluous, like Decker's abandoned voiceover in the original theatrical cut of Blade Runner, and can have the jarring effect of distracting the listener away from the Golden Path more often than serving as a narrative escort. But the avalanche of riffs and colossal rhythms is as thrilling as riding a sandworm across the expanse, the unmitigated fury of nature tamed and controlled by skill and determination.

Genre godheads Sleep have also long drawn inspiration from Dune, peppering their catalog with lyrical references to Herbert's work and wrapping the 2012 version of Dopesmoker in artwork that owes a great debt to the descriptive stylings of the nomadic Fremen. Sons Of Arrakis obviously make no attempt to veil their own obsession with Dune, and in turn their reverence for Sleep's iconic sound and attitude. It is actually quite refreshing to listen to an album in this genre that foregoes the default truckload of unabashed Sabbath worship and leans into influences from other sources. A great example of how Sons Of Arrakis can wear their influences on their sleeve, but have managed to uniquely stitch each together into something custom tailored and shimmering with the hallucinatory effects of their own rare spice. 

While the album obviously draws thematic inspiration from Herbert's Dune, it is impossible to absorb this record without also acknowledging the notorious cinematic interpretation of the novel by David Lynch and the more recent and significantly more uncompromising version by Dennis Villeneuve. With artwork by noted designer Alexandre Goulet, Volume 1 skews more towards the severe imagery that defines the Villeneuve interpretation, but retains a level of undeniable mystique that tints the familiar with azure shades of the unknown. In this sense, it would be potentially appropriate to re-score Lynch's Dune with the heavy compositions of Sons Of Arrakis in place of Toto's truly outlandish soundtrack, grounding that film with some additional sonic heft while preserving the inherent Lynchian level of unhinged originality.

Ultimately Volume 1 is more Arthur Conan Doyle than Frank Herbert, a blunt object that retains just enough in the way of compositional subtleties that helped even the pulpiest adventures of John Carter and Conan rise above their trash-fiction roots. It's an entertaining listen that stands on the shoulders of giants, but in doing so offers an incredible perspective on a familiar landscape.

Volume 1 is available on extremely limited vinyl, CD, and as a digital download via Bandcamp. Stream the album on Spotify. Follow Sons Of Arrakis on Instagram.