The record you’re reading about has (more or less) the same birthday as the magazine you’re holding: October of 2004. The big difference between the two—other than, you know, one being an EP and the other containing a presciently glowing review of said EP—is that Decibel still exists, and everyone who has heard Mare wishes that they still did.
With just five songs to their credit (not counting a WTF one-off Melvins cover) the Mississauga, Ontario duo was so extraordinarily singular that they rendered our grab bag of helpful hyphenated descriptors (“avant-sludge,” “fusion-doom,” “post-metal”) woefully inadequate. From the emphatic bass kick that throttles the forlorn chording of “Anisette” to the haunting harmonized groans of “Sun for Miles,” the 24 minutes that comprise Mare are truly unlike anything you’ve heard before or since.
And it was all conceived by the humblest of suburban sources: an ambitious 16-year-old drummer so entranced with the unbalanced tech-metal of The End that he auditioned for their five-years-senior, vocally schizophrenic ex-singer’s new project rocking their merch. Caleb Collins (drums) and Tyler Semrick-Palmateer (almost everything else) quickly became sonic soulmates, if only for that lone, criminally curtailed, gloriously mesmerizing yield, which was so holy-shit incredible that… they had to ruin it all by never writing heavy music together again.
So, enter a world of obscure ThunderCats references, comically combative gigs and “breathing” wine cellars to learn why there will (probably) never be a follow-up to one of the most arresting one-offs in extremely extreme history.