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motifsinthecity · 5 years

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Favorite Albums: 2018

I've been thinking a lot recently about the meaning distance can afford us.

In many ways, distance creates the attachments that ground us in this lifetime. Distance defines our relationships to a multitude of persons, places, and things--perhaps even with ourselves, the persons we were, and the persons we might be. While we often measure our lives in relation to the material possessions and the status others hold, it is often the distance we must travel, both figuratively and literally, that dictate our ability to connect with others during our lives.

I found this theme of distance and meaning continually emerge as I listened to Deafheaven's latest offering in 2018, aptly titled, Ordinary Corrupt Human Love. At 7 tracks, the San Francisco five-piece continue to evolve their black-metal-by-way-of-shoegaze sound, which serves not only as an artifact to their place among their musical peers, but as a testament to how far they've traveled since their inception. Deafheaven's journey is indebted, in part, to the buzz Ordinary… has garnered regarding its aesthetic composition. That's because few bands in recent memory have been tied so closely to the duality of their sound, from the oppressive nature of metal to the sway and drift of shoegaze. Even Pitchfork joked it was the best Smashing Pumpkins album this year. However, such a narrow read brings a swath of opinions. Many a think piece have covered whether Deafheaven's brand of extreme music is "metal" enough, "pretty" enough, or simply authentic enough. Indeed, the chasm is wide in the hyper critical expanse of 2018's internet, but Deafheaven have never been interested in formula--they relish residence in the in-between--and the road to Ordinary… is littered with the pitfalls of expectations, ones they've judiciously set aside.

This is because the seeds for Ordinary's… lush mix of driving metallurgy and art rock can be found all throughout the bands prior releases; yet it's assembled here with a new sense of impressionistic romanticism. Four of the songs off Ordinary… orient listeners with the group's more traditional arrangements, where chiming melodies give way to frenzied guitar, thunderous drums, and rapturous solos. Ordinary… offers two strong contributions to these types of mainstay compositions, from the stutter-stop ascension and gossamer suspension of "Honeycomb" to the slashing and spiraling glory of "Glint." On both these songs, Deafheaven provide vibrant and electrifying arrangements that capture the extremity of the human condition. Guitarist Kerry McCoy offers invigorating and euphoric guitar melodies that seem to embody everything from pleasure, to pain, to sorrow, to joy, all married by George Clarke's impassioned and throaty howl. Again, the duality of Deafheaven's sound is only interesting as a surface observation. The real richness comes from the confluence of their influences, which render these songs with force and vitality.

While "Honeycomb" and "Glint" provide us with the familiar Deafheaven blueprint, the band's growth is certainly on display elsewhere on Ordinary… "Near" effectively breaks up the record with its shimmering glow and reverb-heavy drift as Clarke sings "Thought I saw you there/Wishing you were near…" There's a warmness to "Near" that's tender and firm, an evocative oasis in an otherwise dizzying record. Another strong standout is "Night People," a somber, gothic chamber piece, where Clarke duets with the resident queen of doom folk, Chelsea Wolfe. Both Clarke and Wolfe's mournful harmonies come together over dusky piano and cavernous drums, contemplating eventual decay with mournful couplets, such as "And the black sand of your body slipped through…" and "I found myself at your side…" in what might be someone's penultimate moment in this lifetime. In some ways, the tenderness of "Near" and "Night People" represent complimentary meditations on dealing with distance. "Near" focusing on the longing we attach to the future, while "Night People" explores the agony of loss as our loved ones leave this life without us.

Indeed, the idea of distance is inescapable on Ordinary… If Deafheaven's breakout work Sunbather (2013) was about the disintegration of the self, and New Bermuda (2015) centered around the savagery and oppression of locality, then Ordinary… revels in the elegance of decay, a function of time and the inescapable truths we face as we are transformed by life's kiln. The band touches on this cycle of birth and death--how the world can throw our trajectory into far out places--on the album's closing track "Worthless Animal." Here, Clarke's rasp juxtaposes the innocence of a new born fawn:

When a fawn Stumbles into the road Honeydew high And deep in afterglow Mind swarming Mind small Honeydew high Transforming the soul

With the slaughter of a feral dog:

Then search to pin the legs Of the stalking dog That lends its teeth To sticky, sad bedlam War cries quake through lurching light

I bury a blade between its ribs Bear hug the soft canine frame Then smear ash Then smear the ash on its brow

Set against a "November Rain" by way of kraut rock guitar phrasing, "Worthless Animal" glistens like an unending ocean, holding close the beauty and tragedy that often shade life's mysteries. Deafheaven carefully hold the intimacy of innocence alongside the horror of our choices to show us the points between them aren't so far away--that a lifetime is simply a blink in an instant, a star in the sky, the distance between us. Ultimately, maybe distance serves as a function not just our relationships to persons, places and things, but to time and attachment as well. By this, I mean that we are all spending the time needed to find away to let go of that which no longer suits us, to ultimately transform our relationships to things, and become who we were always meant to be.

In the steps of many artists before them, Deafheaven settle on the notion that the only way to bridge the distance between ourselves, who we are, and other people, is through the imperfect ways we love one another. The band displays this on the immaculate "You Without End," which features airy guitar slides, angelic piano, and half-step drums, set against a whisper silk spoken word poem delivered by Nadia Kury. Indeed, "You Without End" is as vivid as the daydream it describes:

He pained, shifting his attention toward the mirror across the road Back into his daydream The spliff burned his fingers the second he drank, and he tossed it toward the gutter The smoke burned into his eyes, blinding him As he blinked through the tears, the pain began to recede Back down the promenade and homeward bound, as he approached the intersection of Brooklyn and Lakeshore, a flock of geese burst from the darkness and flew, shrieking into what was left of the evening.

Kury's evocative words give way to McCoy's dizzying and soaring guitar work, which erupts in dissonant ecstasy as Clarke exclaims:

Let it go as it grows on forever And let it go Let it go as it grows Breathe it in Let it go as it grows on forever And we breathe it in And we breathe it in And then the world will grow And then the world will grow And then the world will know Of all true love, true

"You Without End" is a reminder that time doesn't have to dull our spirit where love exists as a possibility for more. The way we bridge the gap between ourselves, the way we traverse the distances we face in this lifetime, they lend us purpose and meaning for ourselves and those we meet for as long as we know them. A connection like love is rooted firmly in the transformations we make in life, with and for others, and the extraordinary experiences we often face through ordinary means. What Deafheaven have done is provide an incredible statement on the power of love, that against all odds and in the face of all kinds of distances between us, we can endure with each other, without end. All we need is our ordinary, corrupt, human love.

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sweetflorist · 7 years

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A Cavalcade of Taste

(Author’s Note: A little body horror at the end.)

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The sky was a special color that morning, the slate blue and dull grey of clouds pregnant with rain. Steven and Amethyst stood out on the porch, Steven with his head to the wind. Steven breathed in the smell of air before rain. The scent dancing between his nostrils was sweet, with a pungent zing. He knew that after the rain, there would be a wonderful earthy, wet smell in the air.

“Do you smell this?” asked Steven.

“Smell what?” asked Amethyst. “You mean the rain?”

“Yeah! This smell is called Petrichor. I read about it in the dictionary!” said Steven, grinning.

“Huh.” Amethyst frowned slightly. She inhaled deeply, and held in the breath for a while. Finally she let it all out in a whoosh of air. “Ah, I can kinda smell it! It’s kinda nice I guess.”

Steven smiled, and entered the house. “There’s nothing better to do on a rainy day besides read manga!” He led Amethyst up to his stash. His stash was a cardboard box filled to the brim with manga. The vibrant covers, dancing with neon colors and flamboyant characters, peeked out at Amethyst in the dull light.

“So what’re ya reading?” asked Amethyst, throwing herself onto the bed.

“Toriko!” said Steven, showing her the cover of the eponymous Toriko. The cover displayed a blue haired guy chowing down on a hunk of meat. Amethyst laughs. “I feel this guy relates to me.”

“Yeah! He loves to eat!” said Steven, joining Amethyst on the bed.

“All right, a guy after my own heart! Gimme that!”

And so the two enjoyed a few volumes. After a while, Amethyst observed, “He’s really enjoying that food.”

Steven nodded.

Amethyst continued to read. It was odd, she thought, that taste was emphasized over and over. Amethyst could feel herself getting hungry.

All of a sudden, she bounded off the bed. “Where are you going?” asked Steven, voice a little down.

“I’m gonna get some food!” yelled Amethyst over her shoulder. “I’ll be right back!”

She ran to the bookshelf, and pulled out a book of human anatomy. Taste had been so hyped up, she just had to try eating with human taste buds. It was something new, instead of just concentrating on the feeling as it traveled through her body.

Amethyst studied the delicately drawn pictures, then concentrated. Nothing much changed, but when she dragged the front of her tongue across the roof of her mouth, she could feel tiny bumps. “All right!” she crowed. “Now to get to the good stuff!”

Amethyst ran to her room, dragging out a bottle of coolant. She downed it in one gulp. The taste was sweet, and it slid down her throat easily. Amethyst sloshed it around in her mouth, savoring the way it flowed around the roots of her tongue. She swallowed.

Thrilled, Amethyst decided to go out in a hunt for exotic tastes.

Steven brought her to the Big Donut, and got her one. With Amethyst’s newly extremely amplified taste buds and sense of smell, the taste was like a bombshell. Every bite seared her mouth with flavor-cloying sugar overpowered everything at first, then came the subtle but stronger scents of vanilla and the harsh but good cinnamon. Amethyst let the flavors take her for a ride, then swallowed, and turned her attention back to the trio.

Lars, Sadie and Steven were staring at her. Lars said, “…It’s just a donut. You don’t have to act like you just got a-”

“-TASTY DONUT!” overrode Sadie. “Steven it’s been fun, but-!”

Steven got the hint and led Amethyst outside. “That was so awesome, Steven! Let’s go taste something else!”

Amethyst progressed to more extreme tastes. At the fishing wharfs, she lolled her tongue around Yellowtail’s boat, basking in the taste of brine, tongue-scouring sea salt, and mud.

“Mud tastes good?” asked Steven in disbelief. Amethyst swallowed a full gulp of ocean brine. “Steven, you don’t know what you’re missing! It taste so awesome!”

Amethyst caught the scent of something incredible then. At first whiff it was French fries, but underneath...full-bodied carbohydrates and lovely sugars and meaty potato starch and and pungent black pepper and-

Amethyst careened over to the side of Beach Citywalk Fries, leaping up into Mr. Fryman’s face. “GAH!” he screamed.

“Gimme the oil!”

“What? You mean the bits-”

“The OIL! I just gotta see how it tastes…”

“Uh.” Said Mr. Fryman. He glanced over his shoulder. The oil was completely used from the day’s frying, but it was still 3rd degree-burns hot.

Amethyst squirmed at his hesitance. Climbing over the divider, to Mr. Fryman’s horror, she lunged for the oil, and dumped it down her throat. Mr. Fryman screamed.

Pearl and Garnet hurried after Steven as fast as they could. “It’s a good thing you came to us once Amethyst began to eat Yellowtail’s boat,” Pearl said.

“Yeah!” Steven agreed. He led them over to Mr. Fryman’s stall. The Frymans were outside, a mixture of horrified and concerned. Mr. Fryman hurried over to Steven. “She’s uh, in there.”

Amethyst sat in the middle of the stall, covered in boiling oil. Her hair seemed to be matted together like if plastic was left in an oven, her face was soft and melted like chocolate in the sun. Her lower jaw was covered by her hands, but purple ooze leaked from the cracks of her fingers. Amethyst stared at her friends. “I’ve been dumb, right?”

“Amethyst! You look horrible! What happened?” Pearl screeched.

“She drank boiling oil.” Peedee supplied.

“Sorry. It was just so delicious. The essence of fries, the hefty taste of carbohydrate…” Amethyst trailed off, removing a hand from her jaw. Purple ooze stuck to her hand, revealing a melted jaw. It was the stuff of nightmares. Pearl covered Steven’s eyes. Amethyst quickly replaced her hands.

Garnet adjusted her glasses. “Let’s clean you up, Amethyst.”

Amethyst stared at Garnet. POOF.

Steven screamed in horror.

Three hours later, Amethyst reformed.

She was immediately submerged in an avalanche of teary reunions, shrill implied threats and warnings, and firm reassurances that none of them were angry at her. As they descended upon her, Amethyst curled into a defensive position and yelled, “I got rid of the taste buds!”

It didn’t matter. Steven pulled them into a group hug, Amethyst crushed in the middle.

“Ugh.” Amethyst squirmed around, secretly pleased. She stopped struggling after a moment, and basked in the warm attention.

A manga drew her attention, from the corner of her eye. It was Food Wars. On the cover was a juicy meal being enjoyed by people in the throes of ecstasy. Amethyst stared, remembering how good that oil tasted…

Breaking off the embrace, Amethyst thundered up the steps, picked up the offending manga, and hid them in one of Steven’s boxes.

The rest of them stared at her. Amethyst chuckled. “Can’t have a risk of me re-offending, right?”

#lars #sadie #taste #food #steven universe #amethyst #steven #pearl #garnet

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