Toń - Korzenie (2024)
By Flork
Released around a year ago from the shadowy corners of Warsaw (and also the region of Masovia) comes Korzenie, the debut album by the Polish doom/stoner quintet Toń. I was introduced to their sounds quite by accident, albeit seredipidously nonetheless. Korzenie is one of those albums which feels more like a myth unearthed rather than a mere collection of songs, despite that four singles preceed its birth. Created by a group of unlikely collaborators, such as a funeral director, a power industry lawyer, a vocal teacher, a veteran of Poland‘s stoner rock scene, and a former MTV translator, the band inhabits a space where personal history, folklore, and sound experimentation collide. As I mentioned at the beginning, Korzenie (Roots) was self-released in June of 2024, offering a genre-defying blend of stoner, psych, post-punk, and folk-metal that is shaped into something uniquely their own. It’s an album that doesn‘t just tell stories, but instead lives them. I loved it right from the moment I first heard Wdech/Wydech (Inhale/Exhale), with its gentle beginning and beautiful vocals. I really didn’t expect a composition full of hope and encouragement.
The whole album has an earthy, analogue feel to it, even when the band ventures into more chaotic or metallic territory. Recorded at Nebula Studio by Tomek Stołowski and mixed primarily by Maciek Karbowski (with the title track handled by Robert Szydło of Mikromusic), the production is dark, atmospheric, and richly textured. The instrumentation is diverse, drawing on both electric and organic elements, including ex-church Technics organs, thick layers of guitar, and percussion that enhances rather than suffocates. It’s an immersive soundscape, one that feels more found than composed, as if it was lifted from the forest floor and left to spread its wings among the crowns of the trees.
At the heart of the album‘s emotional and sonic power is vocalist Monika, whose voice is not just a presence, but also a companion throughout the album’s dreamlike terrain. Her range shifts effortlessly from fragile whispers to unrestrained screams, often within a single track. On songs like Nic Pomiędzy (Nothing In Between) and Krzyk (Scream), she becomes both narrator and embodiment of the emotional content, where one moment she is ghostlike and distant, while the next she is painfully immediate. And all the time she avoids cliché entirely; there’s no theatricality, only raw expression, shaped with careful control. Her voice is haunting yet strangely lullabye and visceral at many moments throughout the album.
The album contains eight tracks, each distinct in mood and narrative. It opens with Wdech/Wydech (Inhale/Exhale), a breath-driven meditation that immediately signals the album‘s spiritual undertone. Some of the tracks, like Las, Głaz, Ćma (Forest, Boulder, Moth) evoke the stillness of the woods at night, while the title track Korzenie (Roots), feels like a ritual in slow motion—rooted in soil, grief, and ancestral memory. This is a beautiful song which can’t be overlooked with tones of folklore sprinkled throughout.
My personal favourite is Niesława (Infamy), which is rhythmic and full of Monika‘s heartfelt energy, while Krzyk (Scream) delivers the most gentle of all the moments, her voice lightening the weight of her soul. The album closes with Odwilż (Thaw), which is a heavier exhale, kind of a cautious reawakening after the album‘s deep descent.
And the Florman’s prognosis? You can’t deny that there’s a distinct “Slavic darkness” here, but it’s handled with nuance and subtlety. And despite the heaviness, there’s an undeniable tenderness with moments where time seems to slow, where you can feel the air and the ethereal beauty and weight of life. Toń is definitely worth keeping inside your radar this summer.
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