It is rare that an album emerges from the throes of ruthless self examination and the troubled waters of a dark society to shine such a welcome light into an impoverished cultural landscape. The sounds of whaling guitars like sirens beckoning the weary sailor to shore coupled with the driving, relentless rythmns and haunting vocals create an elxir strong enough to drown the endless questions echoing in the spiritual vaccum of the West.
This album will haunt you, it will threaten to crawl inside your skin and force the most furious of your repressed and unanswered questions to the surface. It is a gut-wrenching blast of brillance, like a knock-out punch in the final round of an endless bout with sound. The protracted trailing endings to certain songs are like discarded flares on the highway, alertng the driver that here blood met with metal, windows and bumpers in a discordant free-for-all with blue lights spinning in the silence of imagination.
The second track recalls a car wreck where a young friend spun to her death overturned in a ditch. What a mess. What a wreck. The entire album does the same. Flipping over the tables of convential expectation, rerouting the funeral procession, emerging on the far side of a mountain, and finally setting down in the soft relization that the price of love is blood and the wreckage of our simple lives is but a light affliction in comparison to the glory of surrender.
If you want to be wrecked…listen. If you want to ask the tough questions…ask them. If you want to hear the sound of your own pounding discontnet…then sit down, turn up the volume, and let this storm with its violent winds and soothing rain wash over you until you are born anew.
Riverbed from Be Given to the Soil…