Let’s make a list of everything anyone could ever want from a new Black Angels album.
– Echo
– Reverb
– Undulating vocals
– Driving rhythms
– Hypnotic riffs
– Epic soundscapes
– Song titles that sound like classic noir thrillers
Anything missing?
Let’s be honest, if we said The Black Angels’ latest album delivered on even half of these it would be reason enough to be excited. So prepare to get extremely excited.
Death Song is a return not to form (they’ve never been off form), but instead a return to roots. Clear Lake Forest and Indigo Meadow had seen The Black Angels shift direction and focus in on their love of 60’s garage rock, taking cues from bands like The Phantoms, The Seeds, The Electric Prunes, The Standells and many others.
They’ve spent two albums taking garage rock to task, showing that its simple style, potency and power hasn’t dissipated even half a century later. And it’s been one hell of a ride. This time, they’ve decided to reinvent and reinvigorate their own sound, taking the grand, hedonistic sound they so perfectly crafted on Passover and Phosphene Dream and pushing it even further.
Opener Currency swirls, bends and enchants. It showcases just why The Black Angels are so revered, the delirium then inverted on I’d Kill for Her, which has a more direct psychosis, one that chases you naked down very dark corridors, blade in hand.
And it’s this brutal dichotomy that is echoed throughout. The songs are filled with equal parts paranoia and power. Attack and surrender, all at once and encapsulated in something spikey but with an almost imperceptibly beautiful core.
Songs like Comanche Moon are incessant and heartbreaking, hinting at Entrance Song’s intensity, only more emotional, while Half Believing has an almost Echo & The Bunnymen level of drama and emotional rawness to it.
Medicine is almost The Black Angels by numbers, hitting hard with a Warlocks level of grinding hypnosis, only coupled with Von Bondies pounding drive and sheer audacity. Only Thee Oh Sees seem to be able to drive such intensity as accurately as this.
It’s not all push, push, push. Buried deep within the vitriol and intensity there’s always been a homely, natural soul. Something earthy, something you’re able to hold in your hands. Akin to Okkervil River’s wholesome honesty, just a little less overt. On Death Song, The Black Angels are hiding their hearts no more. Many of the songs have a more direct emotional hit than normal – Estimate is bordering on a ballad. This gives the album a wonderfully bittersweet aftertaste you’re not used to finding on ones with this kind of violence.
There’s also a need to consider the closer, Life Song. It’s possibly the standout track (though that’s a tough call), but it’s without a doubt the album’s most fascinating song. Tonally, it takes Young Men Dead’s epic, Ennio Morricone-esque style to a new extreme. Sounding something akin to Pink Floyd soundtracking Kubrick’s The Shining and 2001 simultaneously, its scope is only matched by its terror. It’s immense, beautiful and complete with a solo Gilmour would be proud of.
Scale is what defines Death Song. The Black Angels have taken what they know, and instead of retreading or refining it, they’ve instead decided to launch it into space. Everything is dialled up; the power, the terror, the riffs, the attitude and more. It takes guts, but more than that, to get an album that sounds this good, it takes brilliance.
Death Song is dripping in both.
