Black Avalanche feels like stumbling into some half-collapsed ‘90s dreamworld and realising the walls are breathing, the lights are flickering, and the whole place is humming with a tension you can’t quite name. Toronto’s ONE HUNDRED MOONS have clearly spent years mainlining My Bloody Valentine, grazing on Radiohead’s more paranoid corners, and soaking up every ounce of shoegaze fog they could inhale — but crucially, they’ve twisted it into something that doesn’t feel like another nostalgia cosplay exercise. This album is dense, cinematic, and surprisingly emotional for a band who could have easily hidden behind distortion pedals and moody lighting.
The title track Black Avalanche sets the tone immediately with its slow-building menace — a proper curtain-raiser that drifts in soft and spectral before all hell breaks loose. It’s heavy without being macho, atmospheric without fading into wallpaper. You get that gorgeous blend of dream-pop haze and alt-rock bite, like you’re drifting and falling at the same time. Then Death of the Party staggers in with this grimy, bittersweet energy that feels a bit like wading through the last 20 minutes of a house party you never wanted to attend in the first place. It’s tense, it’s restless, and it’s got that subtle melodic lift that proves these lot aren’t hiding behind noise — they can actually write.
Chairman of the Bored is where they start leaning into their ‘90s fixation with a bit more swagger, the guitars warping and folding in on themselves while the vocals melt into the mix like half-forgotten voicemail messages. Ear to Ear pushes the dream-pop shimmer to the front, a proper shoegaze float that feels like Slowdive dipped in grit. Then Shade of Night drags the mood somewhere darker again — moody, simmering, and patient enough not to blow its load too early.
Volodya might be the most interesting moment on the record — a colder, starker track that hints at post-rock sensibilities and opens the album up in a way that keeps it from feeling repetitive. House of Mirrors follows with this sense of spiralling reflection, the sort of track that could absolutely level a live room if they let it breathe even more. And then The Architect and Into Nowhere close the whole thing out with a slow-burn intensity that borders on cinematic. The final minutes feel like smoke curling off the ruins of something you’re not quite done mourning.
What’s good here is obvious: the atmosphere is thick, the songwriting’s stronger than most bands in this lane, and the blend of aggression and vulnerability is properly compelling. They’re not afraid to be pretty, and they’re not afraid to be bleak, and that push-pull gives the album teeth.
What could be improved? A bit more dynamic contrast wouldn’t hurt. There are moments when the wall of sound becomes a bit too dependable — you sense they’ve got the imagination to really mess with structure, yet they play it safe just when they could kick the floor out from under you. And occasionally the vocals get swallowed to the point where you’re wishing for just a bit more clarity or presence.
But honestly, Black Avalanche is a strong, immersive debut that proves ONE HUNDRED MOONS aren’t just dabbling in the ‘90s revival — they’re building a world with its own weather system. It’s moody, ambitious, and haunting as hell. If they push the dynamics further next time, they’ll be unstoppable.
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