Esox – Watery Grave Review

Pikes—the genus Esox—are perfect predators whose size and ferocity have made them somewhat legendary. However, as an emblem, they are somewhat understated and powerful but unobvious: literally hidden under the surface of the water, part of the sempiternal and vital river ecosystem. This lends weight to the already evident fact that Esox is an incredibly personal project for its creator, Federico Sturiale. 5 years in the making, Watery Grave tells the story of a suicidal drowning, with the drowner’s final reflections making up the album’s acts. It’s a tale that feels every bit as organic and raw as it ought to.

Watery Grave is atmoblack in the same way The Mantle-era Agalloch and Pursuit of the Sun-era Woods of Ypres were: unpolished, warm, and vaguely folky. It’s also somewhat gazey at times, channeling a little Alcest, albeit through a less glossy production. Coarse growls resonate over the blurred mélange of washing tremolos and pattering drumbeats, and cleans murmur softly over keyboard chords. There is little aggression beyond the harsh vocals and the odd fracas of blastbeats. A linear approach to songwriting, which yet maintains consistent themes, means tracks flow on with only subtle melodic reprises, if any. And on they do run, with half extending past ten minutes, and the closer grazing twenty. This fits with the overall river imagery, and complements the musical style as something to drift off to, as Esox indulges in many a meandering melodic tangent of mellow strums and dreamy synth.

Watery Grave is rough around the edges, but in a charming and organic way confined to its resonant, raw production and unshowy, deceptive simplicity of arrangements. Esox demonstrate a proficiency to craft truly beautiful little worlds of introspection, where gentle melodies weave between washes of tremolo, the harsh and soft styles blending brilliantly in builds and releases (“As I Descend Below the Water,” “Esox Lucius” “The River Nihilist”); it’s amazing how calming it can feel. Sometimes, it’s pure post, gazey, synthy peace (“Walden”); sometimes, more dynamic. Comparatively intense blackened passages give way to gentle ambience and plucking (“As I Descend…” “Livyatan Melvillei”), or melancholic post-metal (“The River Nihilist”), or a solemn, hazy section bursts into a colourful solo (“Esox Lucius,” “The River Nihilist”). The sounds of water, bubbles, and whale song amplify the insulation created by the unpolished master and peaceful themes, and the undulating current between the claustrophobically dense and the meditative spacious is felt dramatically, which deepens immersion. Emotion is tangible at such apexes, and this, in tandem with the sense of serenity, evokes well the notion of our protagonist sinking downwards, coming to peace with the world.

As pleasant to listen to as Watery Grave generally is, it hits a few snags that harm its flow. It seems a tad unfocused, mainly due to an apparent reluctance to edit. Synth-led “The Unbearable Cry of the Sea,” feels like an unnecessary interlude that flattens the impact of brilliant opener “As I Descend…”; continuing directly into “Livyatan Melvillei” would strengthen things substantially. Comparing this track to the other instrumental, “Walden,” it is clear from the latter that Esox can write a beautiful and moving interlude without sacrificing movement and mood. The longer cuts could all stand to lose a few minutes, but in particular, it is closer “The River Nihilist,” that suffers the most for its length. It goes through so many evolutions, via bridges of ambience and samples, that it seems to lose its way. The song’s potent and beautiful segments, which in isolation might be highlights—lose some of their shine, and the progress it does develop is awkwardly obscured. In a similar vein, “Livytan Melvillei” can strike the ears awkwardly in its more aggressive, organ-synth-accented first act, which is all but forgotten by its melodious second; again, it feels like coherence was an afterthought. This all makes Watery Grave a little frustrating, given other stirring and ethereal movements.¹

And yet any imperfections Watery Grave may possess are easily forgivable, because of its poignancy and charm. This is a daydreamer album, and its blurred edges suit that perfectly. What it lacks in immediacy and strikingness, it makes up for in heart. There’s promise in here that I look forward to seeing developed next time Esox pull us underwater.

Rating: Good
DR: 9 | Format Reviewed: wav
Label: Self-Release
Websites: Bandcamp | Facebook
Releases Worldwide: May 9th, 2025