Whether or not you're as a dedicated
fan of his as I am, I'm no longer sure if metrics of “good” or
“bad” apply to Carey Mercer's solo project, Blackout Beach. Like
Scott Walker's modern music, it has few precedents or points of
comparison and so it's hard to tell how good or not it is. You like
it because it's successful at what it's trying or because you find it
interesting, and you sure aren't going to put it on at a party.
Anyway, I don't think it's possible to like Blackout Beach on an
album-by-album basis; by now, you're either all in or all out, and
Fuck Death will do nothing to
change anyone's mind.
Mercer's
last two releases, Frog Eyes's Paul's Tomb: A Triumph
and Blackout Beach's Skin Of Evil,
felt like they belonged in the same headspace even if they sounded
little alike. The same dark, intense atmosphere permeated both, many
of the same characters haunted both records, and they were made
around the same period of time. Naturally, Fuck Death has
much more in common with Skin Of Evil,
though it does feels of-a-piece with both albums.
Still,
this is not Skin Of Evil Part 2 even
if the constituent parts sound similar. Mercer is pushing himself to
his greatest extremes yet on Fuck Death:
at more than 12 minutes, 'Drowning Pigs' is the longest track he's
ever made. Similarly, there are very few traditional guitar sounds on
Fuck Death as Mercer
decided to focus on synthesizers and atmospherics. Perhaps he was
inspired by Spencer Krug's Moonface release from earlier this year,
Organ Music Not Vibraphone Like I'd Hoped,
where Krug limited himself to
primitive organs and drum machines. Or maybe the influence was the
other way around. But I digress.
In a
press release for Fuck Death,
Mercer took a few swipes at the chillwave scene in between explaining
that the record focuses on themes of war, beauty, and cowardice. All
of this, somehow, makes sense to me after listening to this album off
and on for a few weeks. One could make the argument that Blackout
Beach is the opposite of chillwave, forcing the listener into
discomforting thoughts and environments, like a Lars Von Trier film.
After all, there are no hooks or melodies, or anyway, no intentional
ones. The way 'Be Forewarned, The Night Has Come' peaks at the end
is strangely addictive to these ears, though it's worth noting I
genuinely like the No New York
compilation, so perhaps I'm skewed as to what is catchy and
addictive. As for the war, beauty, and cowardice...I assure you, it's
there in the lyrics and the sounds, you just have to keep working at
it.
And
you'll have to trust me that the work is worth it, because despite
the extremes that it goes to, Fuck Death is
perhaps the most successful Blackout Beach album yet. Which is my way
of saying, it's perhaps the best
Blackout Beach album yet. The lengthy, demanding 'Drowning Pigs'
seems like pretentious, slapped together dreck until you've heard it
a few times with patience in tow. To be honest, it has most of the
weakest moments of Fuck Death
and lacks the visionary progression of previous Mercer epics, though
it still manages to be interesting and also has, yes, some of the
album's strongest moments. The bit around the 8:00 mark when he's
singing over himself made me realize just how pretty and traditional
his voice can sound when he wants it to.
Fuck Death
is desolate, lonely music and by extension, it only makes sense when
heard on headphones or perhaps curled up in front of the record
player with a cigarette and some wine. If any of the above sounds at
all compelling, this is the album for you. If you don't always
qualify music in terms of 'good' or 'bad', but how 'interesting' or
'successful' it is, Fuck Death
may be for you, too.
5 Successful Stars Out Of 5
No comments:
Post a Comment