Sunbather, post-black metal group Deafheaven's
2013 release, is a record I still don't understand. I'm familiar with all of
the basic elements; convulsive blast beats, throat shredding wails, ascendant
post-rock guitars, wide-eyed dream pop interludes, and a populist folk
obsession with the wealthy. But just typing that sentence, with all its
inherent contradictions, is mind-numbing. How can such beauty and brutality
coexist in the same line, let alone the same song? What are you to do with
calming silence erupting into cacophonous noise? Is there anything you can do?
Like Sunbather, upcoming Adult Swim single
"From the Kettle Onto the Coil" doesn't have answers to those
questions. The guttural moans and glass shattering screams from leader George
Clarke signify he's in pain, but they're so animalistic and obtuse that
interpreting them is impossible. Though it's an unquestionable extreme, he's
the friend who says "everything's fine" while dealing with a decaying
home life and suicidal thoughts. All you need is to consider the harsh
environment created by Daniel Tracy's frenzied drumming and Kerry McCoy's
lacerating chords and know everything is not alright.
But of course a big reason for
Deafheaven's enormous good will in 2013 came from their ability to make it all
seem alright, if only for a moment. On "From the Kettle Onto the Coil"
they ease into a passage of exploratory shoegaze after minutes of pummeling
metal. When the sheets of noise are peeled back to reveal lush reverb,
tranquility is achieved. All the screaming and thumping drums disappear. Peace
is rarely permanent though, it's often just a buffer between stretches of
violence. So when the brutality returns, it shouldn't come as a shock. Upheaval
is a part of life and Deafheaven understand that better than most bands out
there right now.
"From the Kettle Onto the Coil" is out Monday on the Adult Swim site.
In my
original review of El-P and Killer Mike's Run the Jewels
collaboration I wrote that the rap bffs succeeded in "recasting rap
threats as an art-form." While that was an accurate description of their
brilliant, mechanical, stream-of-consciousness onslaught, I wish I hadn't used
the phrase. Now I have nothing to say about "Blockbuster Night Part
1," the first sampling of RTJ2. What the hell looms above an
"art-form?" How can you get larger than life with your chest-puffing?
If you're Killer Mike, you get
there by bidding listeners "top of the morning, my fist to your face is
f***ing Folgers," as sirens wail like a child who has had their favorite
toy taken away. People tend to sit up like a board when you suggest that
"the fellows at the top are likely rapists," as El-P does. Especially
when that kind of hierarchical takedown is coupled with arrhythmic drums and
broken police scanner static. This isn't some political crackpot convention
though, it's a thoroughly reworked routine where RTJ "disappear in the
smoke like we're f***ing magicians." "Blockbuster Night Part 1 is an
orchestrated "macabre massacre." It's bold enough to tell Satan
"be patient," but relaxed enough to burn through a pound of weed. As
Killer Mike puts it, "it's murder, mayhem, melodic music."
Like the original Run the Jewels, RTJ2 will be available for free download and physical copies will be out October 28 through Mass Appeal. RTJ also has an Adult Swim single dropping on September 15. It's going to be a brutal couple of months.
It's easy for Atlanta rapper
Jeezy to sound serious. If he told you through his permanently strained voice
that he'd bust your head or saw someone die, you'd believe him. But the
downside of that rasp is that it doesn't allow for much introspection. It's
tough to sympathize with Jeezy because he sounds impervious to pain.
And while "Holy
Ghost," the fourth song released from Jeezy's upcoming Seen It All, seems
equally impenetrable; it isn't. Hiding behind Jeezy's chants of "we lust
for alcohol and we love women" and the detached alien synthesizer is a
glint of emotion. When he asks "where'd it all go wrong?" he's
confused and borderline scared. From an outsider's perspective his rise from time in a "boot
camp" for narcotics possession to Grammy-nominated artist is
improbable. And Jeezy's clearly still grappling with the improbability. He's
more concerned about the time someone stole a friend's brick than he is about
the current Billboard charts. So when he raps about reclining in his
Rolls-Royce Ghost it's not brazen consumption. It's an attempt to sleep
comfortably, to find one dream from the past among so many nightmares.
(You can listen to "Holy Ghost" here. Seen It All drops September 2 on Def Jam.)
"Exit Only," the first
single off of Deerhoof's upcoming 13th album La Isla Bonita, is
remarkably "tame" for a band that's been known to "shock
and awe." Produced by Nick Sylvester of the deceased lo-fi outfit Mr. Dream,
it's a surging piece of bubblegum punk that wouldn't have been out of place on
the Scott Pilgrim vs.
the World soundtrack. Unsung
guitar hero John Dieterich's main garage riff has the crunch of stepping on
dead leaves on the dirty ground. His brief segments of noodling flap about
like the tentacles of a sugar-addled octopus. To keep up drummer Greg Saunier
locks into a machine gun rat-a-tat-tat that would leave crater-sized bullet
holes in anyone that stepped in front of his kit. There's no erraticism in
the band’s approach; instead of scratching your head you bang along with pure
joy.
The questions
start to come though with vocalist Satomi Matsuzaki's sung/snapped vocals.
There's zero consistency. She leapfrogs from cordoned off threats "I won't
let you," to open arm greetings "bienvenido," with little
concern for logic. At one point she coolly sings "too many choice to order
breakfast" like a snotty hotel clerk on acid. And then after 2 minutes and
45 seconds of enigmatic "rambling," she stops on point to thank you
for coming and orders you to "get out now." What starts as
straightforward ends in the unknown.
La Isla Bonita is out November 4 on Polyvinyl.
