IN REVIEW: Swans - "To Be Kind"
Swans' thirteenth album doesn't simply go against the grain, it goes against the very nature of our modern society itself. In an age of instant gratification and short attention spans, the ten songs on To Be Kind shrug off the constraints of conventional album limits and stretches itself to the length of your average Hollywood blockbuster. And, just like them, To Be Kind contains plenty of twists and explosions. However, that's where the similarities end; rather than pander to its audience and appeal to lowest common denominators, Swans clutch the audience by the scruff of the neck and pull them away from the commonplace.
In ways, To Be Kind is very much a continuation of 2012's heavily lauded The Seer; songs stay as long as they want to and say whatever they feel like, but the occasional droning and repetition which sometimes became a little tiresome before only add to the excitement this time around because there's more happening in the background. Take the 12-minute, smoldering Just A Little Boy (For Chester Burnett), a song lesser bands would restrict to five minutes or less but here assuredly and steadily unfurls into a snarling psychoblues epic. The song doesn't simply progress, it evolves, and you experience every ugly phase of it in vivid detail.
The most apparent difference is in this record's menace; Michael Gira's vocals show more bite, intermittently approaching possession-level intensity to match the spitting, screaming music that accompanies him. The tension doesn't just stay on the surface, either; it's permeated into the very core, in bleeding guitars, uneasy pianos and squealing horns, running in the undercurrent throughout and occasionally bubbling over in a glorious, violent burst as they do toward the end of A Little God In My Hands and late album highlight Oxygen. The latter song's transformation from conventional to cacophonous is steady and impressive, and really showcases Swans' uncanny knack for both building a song up and pushing its boundaries until there simply are none.
Amid all the tension and violence, there's a sharp sense of groove, as exhibited to thrilling effect on opening track Screen Shot, which rides in on a slinking bass lick you might find in the dusty desert sounds of Kyuss (though that groove is eventually buried alive by a wave of noise); or She Loves Us, which locks itself into place and entrances over its seventeen minutes of hazy darkness and lunatic fringe. Nathalie Neal maintains its formidable mandolin and bass led melody even while threatening to unhinge at any moment. It actually doesn't which, by the latter stages of the album, is a surprise in and of itself.
The album isn't without its share of beauty and fragility, either; see the closing minute of aforementioned Nathalie Neal, the gentle (and, at five minutes, practically interlude-length) Some Things We Do, or the cinematic, bell-infused sway of Kirsten Supine (that is, before it explodes into a throbbing, metallic crescendo). Perhaps the best example of this is the first half of the album's title track, which manages to remain calm and soothing while the pandemonium rages just outside. However, there's no happy ending here; ultimately the ugliness wins, bursting down the door and unleashing a final, furious attack before exhausting itself of all its dark energy.
If you're looking for a piece of definitive evidence that To Be Kind is worth the price of admission, you'll find it and then some in Bring The Sun/Toussaint L'Ouverture; as the album's centerpiece, it is alone more rewarding than many albums, and longer than some to boot. This is a 34-minute wrecking ball of a song that's eerie enough before Gira's haunted, ritualistic wails begin, its off-kilter jazz groove casually growing in ferocity until it reaches its perceived boiling point about ten minutes in. Rather than easing off the throttle, however, it just keeps going; not content to merely boil over, it waits until the entire house is engulfed in flames before taking a moment to step back to admire the aftermath. Then, impossibly, it (literally) rebuilds; sawing and hammering can be heard among the discordant piano while we wait for the horses to arrive, at which point it gets just a little insane. Neighing gives way to warped shrieking and sputtering, violent guitars as the song burns itself down yet again. At the twenty minute mark, things get downright Floydian, ushering in a throbbing bassline over a majestic sonic backdrop while Gira delivers a maniacal multilingual incantation like a crazed cross between Jim Morrison and Black Francis. When the song immolates itself for the third time, it feels as though the entire world is burning, but it also tastes like freedom; Toussaint L'Ouverture was leader of the Haitian Revolution and a self educated former slave who drove Napoleon out of Haiti and ushered in independence for his people. With that in mind, it serves as a reminder of what ordinary people can accomplish with some education, free thinking and motivation. This isn't just a great song, it's also a history lesson and a call for free thought. Talk about multitasking.
If you've read this far it should go without saying, but To Be Kind is not a driving around town, working out at the gym or drinking beer with your friends kind of record. You won't hear it soundtracking car commercials, and you won't be seeing promotional tie-ins with overwrought TV teen dramas. This is carefully crafted music not for businessmen, hipsters or frat boys but for open minded lovers of rock music. It doesn't exist on your terms, and it doesn't care about your acceptance. It's the oft-forgotten use of the medium as an art form rather than a business model, the band artists rather than salesmen. Most of society will shrug their shoulders at it, but if you're looking for reaffirmation of music's ability to provoke thought and challenge your preconceived notions of what an album (and, indeed, rock music itself) is supposed to be, here it is.
May 13, 2014 • Young God/Mute
Highlights A Little God In My Hands • Bring The Sun/Toussaint L'Ouverture • Oxygen
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