A release that has been decades in the works, Words On Music is proud to present A Gentle Collapsing, the definitive recordings from the post-punk trio Remnant Three.

Words On Music first heard these stunning unreleased songs via cassettes exchanged more than 30 years ago, and the record stands tall amongst 1980s post-punk and Factory Records luminaries. [Read the unusual story of how these songs were recorded, seemingly lost to history, and recovered on the Remnant Three artist page].

Named from lyrics to "The Overload" by Talking Heads — the dark album closer to 1980’s Remain In Light – A Gentle Collapsing works in and out of the shadowy lines sketched by its post-punk contemporaries, with a greater emphasis on fashioning a distinctive atmosphere and architecture for its songs of prolonged detachment and ephemeral joy.

"The Gilded Infancy" launches the record with sporadic industrial noises coating dual basslines through the song's four bleak verses, diagramming a lineage to The Cure's 17 Seconds. The song builds without the strike of a single cymbal crash, but instead through anticipation of the first note of an electric guitar that arrives in an affecting entrance three minutes into the song.

Remnant Three's deceptively intricate songwriting methods are effortlessly displayed on "Permanent." Tom-tom drumming recalling Joy Division's Stephen Morris serves as a nonlinear counterpoint to the angular bass, with each instrument gradually delving into more complex circular loops. Guitarwork is bifurcated into rounded Cure-esque melodies and sharp chord-strumming that suggests early Talking Heads. The temperature of the vocals likewise swells, closing with an insistent plea: "The sadness it surrounds me / It pulls me in quite closely."

Found items add industrial percussive elements to the charging "Anomie" – an affectionate testament to the tonal landscapes explored by post-punk legends Joy Division.

"The Predicant" occupies some of the territory explored by Spacemen 3 as Remnant Three experiments with backwards vocal tape echo while pairing hypnotic drumming with thunderous piano ganks.

Side Two opens with the upbeat "Words Are Fading," which visits New Order's 1981-1982 (Factus 8) EP as the earnestly insistent voice echoes alongside buoyant, hummable bass and guitar lines.

Tempered lamentations unfold on "Uncertain of Fire" over sparse, reverbed drumming and minimalist music only to abruptly transition at the halfway mark into a soaring, dense coda akin to founding dream pop artists like Cocteau Twins. The uplifting postscript sparks an optimistic glimmer only hinted at throughout the record: "See the sun through your fingers / Feel the warmth on your hand."

One of the most elaborate compositions on the record follows with "A Cold Removal" in which an unpredictable rhythmic bed is counterpoised by flowing guitars, ornamental glockenspiel, and luminous vocals.

Remnant Three saves both its sonically darkest and brightest moments for the end — the epic 'M.L.' The opening five-plus minutes fits quite snugly with turn-of-the-decade Factory Records — steeped in atmosphere from the opening analog-delayed ambient guitar notes, punctuated but brooding bass, rumbling drums, and an austere lyrical palette ("A fitting end for me / I’m reduced infinitely"). A constant drum pattern unifies the song's opening and closing chapters with soaring synths, upper register bass melodies, and soothing vocals ending A Gentle Collapsing with cautious sanguinity: "Did I see you start to listen for the noise? / Instinctive vigilance please save this boy."

The vinyl edition contains an abridged version of 'M.L.'

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