Now that my head has stopped swimming…
Thursday, February 28th, 2008Last Friday I saw Grayceon, Drain the Sky, and Birushanah play at Annie’s Social Club. I had about 4 hours of sleep the night before, thanks to the Game Developers Conference and its various parties and social events, and was feeling quite somnambulant on my way to the venue. Thankfully, the droning, ambient thunder of Drain the Sky was the perfect match for my state of mind; and I could just stand off to the side of the stage, soaking in the aural deluge. My only regret is that I was too tired to bring along my camera, so I have no photos of the event. Afterwards, I picked up their recent debut album, Haunted by Rivers (they also have a 12-inch EP out, Introduction to the Past).
First off, the format could not be more perfect. The whole thing comes wrapped in your standard 12-inch gate-fold record sleeve, displaying the muddily beautiful artwork of bassist Carl Auge. Inside, the package contains both (blue) vinyl and CD versions of the album, satisfying both the audiophiles and punk purists desire for a near-obsolete format, and saving me the trouble of downloading the mp3’s to burn a portable version for my discman; all for a measly sum of eleven bucks.
As for the music… both the guitar, played by George Wunderlich, and bass pluck haunting melodies amidst sparse vocals ranging from clean, but raspy whispers to deep, hoarse shouting and desperate screams (contributed by all members of the band), all of which evokes walking through an unfamiliar forest in the deep of night, with only the light of the moon breaking through the trees occasionally to light the way. When the music does kick into overdrive, it doesn’t so much build up slowly in an epic fashion as it does trip over the thick kudzu vines, stumbling headfirst into the raging, titular river.
The whole album aims to fill the listener with a general sense of unease, aided significantly by the shifting time-signatures and unusual, complex rhythms provided by drummer Jason Willer; with beats popping up unexpectedly, or absent from places they should seem to be. At some points the meter repeats, not in a familiar 4/4 time, but more like that of a needle skipping across a record, playing the same part over and over, but cutting off abruptly each time. The uncomfortableness reaches its peak with a voice-over recording accompanying the antepenultimate track, spouting conspiracy theory; where the listener has no choice but to ask themselves if the band actually believes what is being claimed, or if it was included just to add to the atmosphere of tension… and to wonder what life would be like if such things were really true. And why does our money have that pyramid with the eye on it, anyway?
