Wayfarer, American Gothic (2023)

 

By Jack Rafferty

“Your ideas are terrifying and your hearts are faint. Your acts of pity and cruelty are absurd, committed with no calm, as if they were irresistible. Finally, you fear blood more and more. Blood and time.”

—Paul Valéry

I’ve followed Wayfarer since their debut album, and I have always appreciated the niche they have carved out for themselves. While I think that, at times, their aesthetic and thematic elements have wandered into gimmick territory, for the most part this has not been the case. I am happy to report that American Gothic is their most fleshed-out, realized version of what they have cultivated since inception. 

The history of violence that they draw from seems completely obvious in retrospect as a prime topic for the genre, but Wayfarer have been the ones to focus upon it singularly. To commit so heavily to such a thematic rigidity was risky, but Wayfarer stuck to their guns, and it has paid off. 

I was especially happy to see that American Gothic expands Wayfarer’s sound in refreshing ways, maintaining that core of black metal, while deepening the atmosphere and sounds they were willing to experiment with. They have also reined in a lot of their format and have achieved a greater sense of focus and purpose. They are at their most melancholy, rasping, and ferocious here. 

It finally feels like they are capturing the essence of a complex and deeply bloody fragment in time, that like an open wound, never closed and has continued seeping into the lives that have descended from it. How does one stand upon the very earth that was made an unceremonious mass grave, how do you reckon with the presence of those bones? Wayfarer, in their own way, have been journeying to interpret the dreaming plain of blood, withering to this day in slow death, a legacy of slaughter that never ended, a hydra that with every new head it grows and grows a new face as well. 

While they certainly do not achieve what someone like Cormac McCarthy does in recollection of this hysteric, ravenous delirium, Wayfarer have finally achieved a confident voice with American Gothic. Their sense of storytelling, pacing, balancing elements of their sound, and of cohesion in their sepulchral vision, have never been stronger than they are on this album. 

Top Romantic Songs for Valentine’s Day

By Jack Stephen

I was asked to join in the musical circle jerk on this blog. I have to say I was flattered, but somewhat wary—I mean it is a circle jerk after all. However, Null and I have talked about the scene in the movie Repo Man where the Circle Jerks performed as a lounge act, so I guess ya’ll are on the level. Here you go fuckers. For Valentine’s Day, my top romantic tracks are:

1. “Sleep Late My Lady Friend” by Harry Nilsson. 

This one was pretty much a no brainer. Harry Nilsson brings an impassioned soulful vibe to this track. Working with the great producer Rick Jarrard, on the album Pandemonium Shadow Show, Nilsson was really able to find some structure and settle into his personal style, performing in a zone known as mind blowing. I don’t know how many times I’ve played this song for my wife, but each time it seems like we always look at each other and sing the line: “We did the town, we tore it upside down.” If there’s a song that solidifies the statement made by both John Lennon and Paul McCartney in the famous press interview of 1968, “we’re listening to Harry Nilsson,” this song is it.  

2. “Nothing Even Matters” by Lauryn Hill. 

When Lauryn Hill arrived on the scene, so to speak, people were just gushing over the Fugees and the “Killing Me Softly” cover. It ended up being a huge hit. While I was happy to hear the song back in the mix, I would say overall it was rather “meh.” A couple of years later, Hill came out with the great The Miseducation of Lauryn Hill, which is just a fantastic album. Interestingly, “Nothing Even Matters” was a duet with D’Angelo, who began his ride with a cover of the Smoky Robinson track “Crusin.’” I really love their back and forth on this song; the “snapping” adds texture with a subtle Hammond B-3 organ holding everything together. And those lyrics, how “nothing even matters,” with a myriad of examples, and finally “nothing but you” is just beautiful. 

3. “Little Harbor” by Jamie Saft. 

A vignette: I look out a window from a cabana on a hill. There’s a light rain falling. My wife naps lightly under some mosquito netting. We just made love. The air is steamy. I smell the ocean. A macaw cries in the distance. I see a little harbor, a small fishing boat pulls in. I wonder what I did to deserve this lovely moment. The sun peeks behind the clouds. I stare out the window. (Note: this song is on the Loneliness Road album featuring Iggy Pop on vocals on another track or two.)

4. “Foolish Heart” by Steve Perry. 

Steve Perry’s vocal mastery is really exemplified in this song. The songs he wrote/performed with Journey, while great, I thought were always were a little watered down by Neil Schon’s swollen ego. Regardless, Journey had some fantastic tracks. “Foolish Heart” feels like a personal song for Perry, somewhat of a departure from Journey’s big album rock songs. While I could not be more over “Don’t Stop Believin’” (thanks Sopranos, season finale), “Foolish Heart” always feels fresh. The lyrics also really spoke to me. I always felt like I had a bit of a foolish heart, and maybe we all do at times. (I was going to place Ambrosia’s “The Biggest Part of Me” in the number four spot, which is a song Perry covered.)

5. “Sweetness” by Yes. 

While typically thought of as the Prog rock masters, Yes is one of those bands that always seems to be operating in their own category. The layers, the harmonizing, the structure—the real question is: What the fuck are they doing anyway? The song “Leave It” is a great example. What does it matter? They’re a great band with some awesome songs, which includes “Heart of the Sunrise,” “Yours Is No Disgrace,” and “Owner of a Lonely Heart.” “Sweetness” is one of those romantic songs I appreciate because it is so smart lyrically. Jon Anderson sings about all these things his partner does for him; little things he sees as so important in his life. This leads to the revelation in the song’s climax “and you’re here.” Wow, what an awesome thing to realize. To my wonderful wife—thanks for being here, love you.

As the Circle Jerk’s say, “we do whatever we can, you gotta duck when the shit hits the fan.”   Happy Valentin’s Day everyone. 

Oxbow, Love’s Holiday (2023)

 

By Jack Rafferty

Oxbow has spent nearly the last four decades being one of the most important and vital forces in experimental music. They are perpetually changing, yet always maintaining a core sound and sense of danger, vulnerability, violence, and love. After 2017’s fantastic Thin Black Duke, I was curious to see what Oxbow would do next. It’s kind of hard to review Oxbow, because there really is nothing out there like them. They have such a unique sound, attitude, and atmosphere, blending jazz, blues, punk, avant-garde, noise, soul, R&B, rock, and so much more. 

Love’s Holiday definitely seems to have a noticeably less sharp edge to it, containing more contemplative, sad melodies and darker introspection. I loved seeing Lingua Ignota featured on the track, “Lovely Murk.” I thought it fit really well. It made me wish an entire collaboration album was made surrounding this, as I think the dynamics really make sense. 

“1000 hours” and “All Gone” both contain some of my favorite vocal moments on the album, with Eugene really delving into tragedy and immense vulnerability. He takes a much more restrained approach on this album, but it is still able to achieve an intense emotional impact. 

This certainly isn’t what I was expecting, but I’m glad that Oxbow continue to change and evolve their sound based on where they are at in their lives. It is music that feels very lived, and for that reason, genuine and intimate. 

Kassi Valazza, Knows Nothing (2023)

 

By Jack Rafferty

Ever since I first heard “Johnny Dear” on Western AF, I was entranced by Kassi Valazza. I loved Kassi’s debut album, and I was curious where she and her band would take their sound from there. Starting from track one of Knows Nothing, I knew I was in for some amazing lyrics:

In the still, I often wonder about your brеathin’

I rise and fall to its rhythm late at night

Clay canyons turn to plaster in my grievin’

And our ceiling overtakes the sky.

In addition to the lyrics, I also notice that there has been a sense of settling into a more comfortable space in terms of sound and identity. There are many great things to be said about the debut record, but I do think it can be a bit sporadic at times in regard to what they want to be going forward. It seems, with Knows Nothing, that they have taken steps in the direction they have chosen, and the project feels more cohesive as a result. There is also a more honed, mature feeling to the songwriting, which is not to say that it didn’t have that before, merely that a greater sense of it is achieved here. 

However, while I do really like a lot of the writing showcased on this album, I do think certain levels of obscurity and abstractness has unfortunately been maintained here, which is a tendency I didn’t love on their debut. I think Kassi’s writing is strongest when it is clear, grounded, and intimate, with lyrics such as,

Morning hasn’t broken since I told you

I could use some time to make it right

Now you’re just a whisper, just a notion

Just a story I can read at night

The clouds move slower than they ever seemed to

Still, they find a way to pass me by.

Thankfully, I do think that this is mostly the case this time around, and there has been a demonstrable sense of progression here. Overall, Kassi has come more into her own style here, and this album has many wonderful moments.