Earth – “Old Black” MP3/download
It seems a lot of folks out there are a-scared to call Earth‘s last few records — including the one up for review here, Angels of Darkness, Demons of Light I — “post-rock” because Dylan Carlson‘s group is on metallic label Southern Lord, but that’s exactly what these dudes have been up to, and that’s exactly where they’re going: straight into the heart of the sun, to (not) coin a phrase …
If I were to set up a list of comparable bands (which I will actually do here in a moment) none of them would be on the “doom” end of the spectrum. It would look more like this:
- first and foremost, Mogwai (or as longtime fans might occasionally call them after drinking, Mogwizzle)
- Mono (both bands use strings and adore ornate, hushed arrangements, though the climaxes of Mono are anathema to Earth)
- Ennio Morricone/Morricone Youth (as cliche as it is to invoke this guy he practically invented the whole “desert” sound, which weighs in heavily here)
- Pelican (I definitely don’t have to explain myself on this one, do I?)
- Tarantula (one of the weirdest post-rock comings and goings, releasing one gorgeous, subdued, Dirty Three-ish record and then putting out a balls-out, rock-opera-style gangbuster)
- speaking of which: Dirty Three
- Black Cat Orchestra (they often back Cat Power, but they factor in here because they’re mellow and misty)
- Locrian (not in general, more just those times when Loc let a bassline take the forefront, as on parts of “Rain of Ashes”)
- Spaghetti Western (this total unknown released one amazing CD in the mid-2000s and … well, I haven’t heard a scrap from them since … Western instrumentals at their best)
None of the bands mentioned above, however, are nearly as one-track-minded as Earth. Carlson and his honchos focus so intently on their straight-line act they nearly stare it to death, neglecting to even rise above a small “peep” over the course of the entire album.
And that’s what I enjoy most; I’ve never been the type to demand a build-up-and-subsequent-resolution format from my favorites. All I want, really, is to be mesmerized, and Earth manage to come close with just about every song here, much as they did via The Bee Made Honey in the Lion’s Skull with both the genius physical aspects of the production (bible-style LP, etc.) and the steady-as-she-goes strands of muted post-rock.
What they’ve accomplished with the packaging is important as well, as the red-swirl vinyl and Side 4 etching lending the proper mood for a record full of contemplative guitar playing, mournful progressions and flat-out inspiring stretches of wandering sound that seem to be searching for water to slake their withering souls — and never find it.
I always find myself wondering how certain artists instill such clear-cut emotions in their music. Does it take a calamitous loss? A life full of hardship? A long journey through the shadows of America’s sagging underbelly? Plague, rioting in the streets, a death in the family, disease, inspiration, sex, god, power, corrosion of long-held ideals, failure, corruption, malice, cures for heretofore thought unbreakable sicknesses?
I have no clue, but if I do figure out I promise to share my findings with you, as always, humble, hunted-to-extinction reader.
