The debut (Your Star Will Collapse) was heavy, yes, but this one sinks deeper. Unreachable Mountain doesn’t rush to impress or even really welcome the listener - it just unfolds, slowly, stubbornly, like mist on a morning you don’t want to wake into. It’s slower, more suffocating, almost daring you to stay inside the weight of it.
SíR aren’t chasing genre flags. Blackened doom, death, depressive rock - all true enough, but the mix here feels less like hybrid and more like a personal dialect. The guitars drag the body down into mud, yet there’s this strange glow inside, a melodic pull that never quite resolves. Vocals rasp and echo like someone locked in the next room, not screaming to be heard but admitting something already lost.
The record circles the idea of distance. The mountain you see every day, the place you’ll never stand upon - that’s exactly how these songs hit. They let you see something faint and beautiful far ahead, but the ground beneath stays rotten and heavy. No triumph, no release. Just the long stare.
It isn’t a record for the impatient. Nothing here offers a hook to cling to. Instead you get that slow bleed of time, the hypnotic repetition, the sense that beauty is just out of reach and maybe always was. It’s not music to consume, it’s music to inhabit for an hour and then carry in your chest long after.
Second album, and already it sound like a band that’s not trying to arrive anywhere. Sír just showing us the path that leads up the slope, and then the point where the path stops. The rest is imagination - and ache.
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