THE ANTLERS: FAMILIARS (2014)
1) Palace; 2) Doppelgänger; 3)
Hotel; 4) Intruders; 5) Director; 6) Parade; 7) Surrender; 8) Refuge; 9)
Revisited.
Apparently, the effort that it took to record Burst Apart sucked whatever energy The
Antlers had right out of their marrows — and instead of spending the next three
years relaxing and recuperating some
of it, they decided that they would rather capitalize on the situation. Lesson
number one: if you have no energy to make an album, make an album with no
energy whatsoever and present it as your latest and greatest artistic
statement. And don't worry about bad publicity — you'll always have
Pitchforkmedia, as long as you stay within certain working limits.
There is an undeniable unity (easy to say
«monotonousness») to the seven lengthy pieces on Familiars, and an undeniable «ambience» that separates them from
the old indie-rock idiom and brings them closer to stuff that has been gruesomely
labeled as «post-rock» in the past — the oceanic soundscapes of Sigur Rós and
the like. In a way, the Antlers had always worked close to that style, but Familiars pushes them even further in
the «music where nothing happens, or at least nothing happens fast enough»
direction. Now, everything, in any given track, at any given moment, happens at
the intersection of soft-as-silk late-night jazz guitar; atmospheric, mood-setting
digital and analog keyboards; calmly funebral wailings of trumpets and trombones;
and Peter Silberman's vocals, the very same ones that we are well used to but
even more reminiscent now of a half-paralyzed person in the middle of a nervous
breakdown.
In other words, Familiars is the soundtrack to a deeply internalized and restrained
personal tragedy. Think of it as the equivalent of a Cure album in a world
where musical hooks and dynamic playing are considered dangerous for the moral
health of the population and are strictly prohibited under pain of death,
lobotomy, or one year in the Lana del Rey correctional facility, so you have to
come up with a credible substitute that could somehow convey the same idea of
suffering, loneliness, and empathy, but without, you know, music in the most common sense of the word. It is hard to make this
work, but I think it can be done. The question is, whether it can be done by a
band like the Antlers.
My personal vote is «no»: I find Familiars to be at best boring, and at
worst, irritating. There is nothing wrong about using your instruments to
create a statically melancholic atmosphere, but there still has to be something
special about it. You might be a genius like Brian Eno, using two or three
chord changes, but finding just the right ones and just the perfect keyboard
tone and depth and warmth of sound for them. You might be the above-mentioned
Sigur Rós, trying out all sorts of combinations until you find the ones that
work. You might think about crescendos, quirky overdubs, subliminal messages,
whatever. For Familiars, Silberman
came up with exactly one (1) idea, and carried it out in several variations for
fifty minutes — and it wasn't even a totally undeniably jaw-droppingly awesome
idea in the first place.
This crude, but honest, explanation takes care
of the «boring» part. Where it gets «irritating» is in the department of
«adequacy»: like Bon Iver or any of his colleagues in the «dream-whatever»
department («dream-folk», «dream-pop», etc.), Silberman's latest creation clearly
strives to induce catharsis. All those «majestic» keyboards, «saintly humble»
guitars, and particularly Peter's broken-heartedly romantic deliveries are
integral parts of one big plot — to make your reaction towards Familiars a religious one. The preachy
lyrics are certainly religious (e.g., "to find the peace within the combat
where we're standing, we have to make our history less commanding" on
ʽSurrenderʼ, etc.), but the way they are sung and the way they are surrounded
by instruments and echoes gives the impression of one great big Church of The
Antlers, and the whole album is one big seven-part Mass that you'd rather
attend while standing on your feet (unless you actually get the urge to fall on
your knees). But why should you? To
subscribe to the Church of The Antlers makes about as much sense as subscribing
to any other Church just because it's nice and cool in the great cathedral and
the big organ up above looks really awesome.
For some reason, one thing that really irritates me about the lyrics is
Silberman's odd attraction to expletives this time around, be it the "fuck
now, I'm outta here tomorrow" refrain of ʽHotelʼ or the embarrassingly
crude "right when the blizzard ends, they throw a fucking huge
parade..." intro to ʽParadeʼ. I suppose that the idea is, if we're
building this new type of musical church, we might as well set up our own
rules, including the right to swear at Mass. But any word has its preferable
context, and the F-word, nothing as we have against it in general, sounds
gimmicky and stupid when sung in that exaggeratedly «beautiful» tone by Mr.
Silberman. He has the undeniable right to count it as part of his artistic vision,
I have the undeniable right to call it stupid, you have the undeniable right to see it your way, we'll all be
happy some day or in the afterlife.
Unfortunately, commenting on the individual
songs is an impossibility for me, since great care has been taken for all of
them to set the exact same mood, and my descriptions are all focused on moods,
not chords. If it were made more clear that this is strictly «elevator muzak», a
background sort of hum to accompany your glass of whiskey at sundown, Familiars would be forgivable and
forgettable. But since the album sounds like it is making a Big Statement, yet the
band members all behave like refrigerated, defrosted, and microwaved members of
a post-Waters-era Pink Floyd, Familiars
ultimately becomes offensive — one more reminder of what the hell is so goddamn
wrong with «serious» music in the 21st century. Thumbs down.
This album made me determine to never again purchase an album based on a favorable review. (Other than yours, of course!)
ReplyDeleteGosh but it is awful.
On the positive side, another "A" title. Perhaps there is still a chance you'll have a listen to Admiral Fallow!