"What's the point of life?" Marine Biologist makes me question, after years of avoiding existential philosophies. What's the fucking point? "It's all been done," yearning vocals yell to me and anyone else that has been listening to their newly-released (either ironic or sarcastic) album, titled New Works. They cleverly named their songs after terms of musical stylings like "Adagio" or "Allegro," to keep in the musical theme to which they steadily allude. The five track project dons Marine's usual minimalist style, steering toward repetitive instrumentation. I would attribute this choice to the further comment on the unoriginality of music. 

Today's musicians are bereft of any sort of "newness," by no fault of their own. Simply put, there are only so many combinations of notes, time signatures, and progressions that can be used to create something never done before. Time is against us. But we keep going. The population marches forward-- but to what avail? Marine Biologist gives us the soundtrack to our society's qualm of persistent identity crises. Track II of New Works, "Chaccone," has these questions as its only lyrics:

"The realization sets in. There is nothing new. We can no longer create something truly original. There’s nothing we can do."

Where's the fun in that? How doomed we all are...maybe. Though, this album throws me in a pit of sorrow, after the last track's frenzy of drums and abusive guitar strumming, I feel closure knowing that they know too. There's an overall crescendo throughout the album, ending in a wailing, cathartic breakdown in "Andante + Allegro". Andante meaning "slow tempo," and allegro meaning "brisk tempo." Apropos, considering the mixed feelings of existence riddled throughout this self-titled "five-movement suite."

New Works is a journey that writhes in the wake of nostalgia. Perhaps, this could help guide your introspection.