Reflections #8
Stalled, Slefnwald, Warning, Helvetia, Stiff Records, YMO
Contentment > Stalled * 2023 Candlepin Records
Contentment begins with the explosive “A Conduit For This Contentment.” The song is a damnation of commercialism’s imposed stagnation of the individual, passiveness in the face of evil and destruction, and our acceptance of the harmful costs of modernity. The unrelenting riffs build to an oath to abandon commercialism’s blind optimism, to accept the truth that we are driving our own demise, and to do something about it. The last track “Enid” brings back similar themes of destined damnation. The train is running up to the end of the track and we sold the brakes for paper bills. In these songs, Jack Curtin’s distrust of the world has created his complacency which is the central cause of self-resentment and alcohol becomes a balm. “A deeper trough, and endless fill, until we all find the terminal.” I’m in love with Curtin’s guitar playing and the way Dylan Flynn and Nate Whitcome beautifully back him up. His choppy, dissonant chords and riffs punch and cut, then begin to sing sad melodies and ask for forgiveness. The physical copy comes with a gift of demos on the B-side. The first track “Speaking Plain” has a gothic sway and a cavernous ambience; the guitars almost sound prepared. Stalled included a cover of one of my favorite Unwound tracks, “Envelope.” I’m so happy for the release of this EP and for this band. I can only pray they release a full length before too long.
The Conjurer’s Cadence > Slefnwald * 2022 Slefnwald
I’ve been struggling to find inspiration lately. Finally, I’ve decided to get some thoughts down and reflect. I’ve been hooked on the pulp fun of dungeon synth. Its cheesiness is so easy to dip into, especially since beginning a Dungeons and Dragons game, binging Game of Thrones, and searching for escapes. The ceaseless uploads on the Dungeon Synth Archives and Bandcamp are easy to flip through while commuting. I never quite feel full or enriched when listening, but it’s become my easy-listening choice. Even still, some artists have shone through and I’ve found music that feels honest and less contrived amid the hoards of demos. Slefnwald is one such artist. The Conjurer’s Cadence is heavily inspired by fantasy (duh), the music could align with “comfy synth” (what?) at times, but there’s some dark ambient in here too. I’ve mostly enjoyed the storytelling ability of Slefnwald. The album plays more like an opera than a demo; I can follow the hero’s journey–which has a bit of a Dark Crystal arc in my mind. It’s definitely more cartoonish than the dungeon synth I typically listen to (picture the Black Cauldron’s art style). For example, in “Moonlit Revelries,” the melodies hold a childlike, storybook enchantment and the crystalized textures shimmer; and the march in “The Attack” firmly plants the image of short goblins waddling as they storm and set fire to a village in the night. It has a bit of a hit-factor, too. I played the album at a recent D&D session and it perked some ears, if that stands for anything. The synths are pretty and more welcoming than some releases of the genre, hence, the “comfy” moniker. I’d almost go as far as calling it dungeon wave, but I don’t want to contribute to the growing mess of subclassifications.
Watching from a Distance > Warning * 2006 The Miskatonic Foundation
Love is a crushing weight. Watching from a Distance is an emotive experience of the dread felt in monogamy. Believing this is the one and only person for you, your soulmate, and the absolutely paralyzing fear of losing that person. Love is the best thing, the meaning of life, some say, but at the same time love can build codependence, isolation, and paranoia. Patrick Walker’s acknowledgment of these fears and pains feels unique, especially in a genre that often refuses to recognize romance in any way. Holiness, Evil, occult iconography, fantasy, and drugs, of course, are all staples in doom metal. However, Warning’s description of love through the lens of these traditional doom themes gives a fresh interpretation of misanthropy, depression, and nihilism. The loss of love has always been present in doom, but Walker’s pain often comes from the love itself. Love is a curse and to surrender to it is to accept a lifetime of heartbreak, even when you are still wading in romance. The lyrics can often be melodramatic, I admit. Using metaphors of knights and armor for devotion and emotional distance, respectively, does have a scent of cheese to it. Yet the epic vocals and lyrics, slow and low guitars, and reverbed-out drums build a dark cabin of a mind palace to return to that is unchanging and always comforting.
get lost & other dimensions > Helvetia * 2022
This one slid under my radar in the midst of post-Thanksgiving come-downs and pre-Christmas anxiety. Having finally got around to it, this one feels a bit more poignant than previous Helvetia, spur-of-the-moment releases; I can’t ignore the small note at the bottom announcing “an end to this phase of helvetia,” due to health issues. Even still, the music is, as always, a collection of home recorded introspections into mundanity, family life, love, and loneliness. At the least, Jason Albertini presents a shoebox full of polaroids swept out from under the bed with a broom. More often than not, these are delicious psych-folk romps not too far off the Meat Puppet trail (a connection I recently hypothesized, but it would certainly make sense). And in the in-between spaces is the glue of tape experimentation and short little jingles. Jason can shred, no doubt. He is one of my favorite guitarists for his bluesy, melodic style and his inventive tones. But he’s no chump when it comes to any other instrument. His drumming is always inspired, with some beats coming from dimensions out of mind indeed. I recently returned to The Acrobats, his 2008 release, and the drumming throughout that record is insanely head turning, finger snapping, and virtuosic. He’s been rather chilled out on his home recordings compared to 15 years ago, but impressive techniques aren’t the objective in these diary entries anyway. Albertini retains his swagger on the drums in a more of a swaying Ringo way. Now I really am lost.
Bonus Material
Live Stiff Live > Various * 1978 Stiff Records
Record rip:
Docu:
I bought this record last year but revisited it yesterday. What a fun and ruckus rock n roll adventure! After noticing a track listing error, the sleeve lists Ian Dury’s “Billericay Dickie” and “Wake Up & Make Love with Me” as tracks 4 and 5, respectively–when in reality, the tracks are inverted–I went to the wiki and it’s listed incorrectly on there as well. Do I have a rare misprint? Anyway, on the wiki is an excerpt from a Robert Christgau review claiming side 1 as the “good side,” which I guess is fair, you’ve got Nick Lowe killing it with “I Knew the Bride” and “Let’s Eat,” both rockin’ and rollin’. But, really, can you dismiss Elvis Costello’s cover of Burt Bacharach and Hal David’s “I Just Don’t Know What to Do with Myself” so easily? And even if Christgau is right that Costello’s album version of “Miracle Man” is the proper hit we know and “eclipsed” this live recording, this version has that repetitive, pre-Devo organ riff that really punches up the song, giving it a new life of its own. The album is worth the collective all gathering together to sing Dury’s “Sex Drugs Rock & Roll & Chaos” alone.
YMO Live At Nippon Budokan 1983 > Yellow Magic Orchestra * 1984?
I put this on while working and couldn’t help but wiggle in my seat. I listened to the concert movie on YouTube and, man, that eye shadow. My favorite track was probably “Expecting Rivers” for the heavenly synths and that industrial drum downbeat. What’s up with the fascistic themes in the set design? Red armbands, the flags, huge podiums, and marching models. It’s definitely an interesting sci-fi style that reminds me of Terry Gilliam’s art direction. Dance party at the end of the corporate world!