ANATHEMA: WE’RE HERE BECAUSE WE’RE HERE (2010)
1) Thin Air; 2) Summernight
Horizon; 3) Dreaming Light; 4) Everything; 5) Angels Walk Among Us; 6)
Presence; 7) A Simple Mistake; 8) Get Off, Get Out; 9) Universal; 10) Hindsight.
Seven years, apparently, is what it takes to
come back to the light — a spiritual journey undertaken in order to finally
find an answer to the question that had been bugging the Cavanaghs ever since
they began to think of themselves as artists: «what the hell are we doing here
at all?» And now, in 2010, that answer is staring right at you from the front
cover. No, they did not exactly find Jesus (although that, too, could be
suspected because of the walking-on-water image), but at least they found
Steven Wilson, who is a much better mixer than Jesus ever was, and who could
steer them in the blessed direction more efficiently than any religious guru.
I gotta say, I can't help admiring these guys
for making the transition. Nothing is easier these days than cling to an
established formula to the death, and there will always be a market for new and
new albums about disillusionment, desperation, and dead brides as long as there
remains a market for anything musical at all. But somehow, upon completing A Natural Disaster, the Cavanaghs
decided that it was time to break the circle, and begin looking for positive
answers, no matter how deeply entrenched they'd become in transcendental
misery. The prevailing mood still retains a tinge of sadness, but now it comes
mixed with a «glorious» feel that begins with the album's title, song names
like ʽAngels Walk Among Usʼ, and music that borrows more from the post-rock
idiom of Godspeed You! Black Emperor than the dark musings of Floyd and
Radiohead, albeit still very much dependent on vocal work (especially now that
drummer John Douglas' sister, Lee Douglas, joins the band as a permanent new
member — more often double-tracking or backing up Vincent's vocals for extra
angelic effect rather than singing lead).
Steven Wilson, who was already beginning to
make headlines as the remixing wonder of the century (producing remixes of
classic Caravan, King Crimson, and Jethro Tull albums, among other things),
operates in George Martin capacity for this record — his mix ensures that none
of the instruments, including plenty of acoustic and electric guitar overdubs
as well as grand pianos and electronic strings, merge together in one big sonic
glop, which is a fairly common bane for many neo-prog artists. The underlying
idea was to make a record that, through sheer sonic bliss, would remind one of
the Eternal Bliss, and, technically speaking, that goal was achieved. On the very
first track, ʽThin Airʼ, the band presents an impressive cobweb of sound, or,
should I rather say, a mighty racetrack of sound, with guitars, keyboards, and
vocals all racing parallel to each other, gradually rising in a powerful
crescendo — and the song's lyrics complete the rebirth-in-death of the Anathema
protagonist, who is now only too happy to join his beloved in death under «a
promise of heaven».
So much for the good stuff: We're Here represents a brave new
beginning, and its concept is immaculately planned and executed. The problem is
that, unfortunately, not even Steven Wilson is capable of turning the Cavanaghs
into exciting and/or inspiring songwriters. The keys and moods may have
changed, but the basic premise remains the same: each of the songs is built around
one (sometimes two, if the track is long enough to allow for a key change
midway through) base chord sequence, which is then milked for trance-inducing
emotional splendor, usually by having it played by three or four instruments at
once. These songs are quite lengthy (5 to 7 minutes on average), and the only
dynamic development that one usually gets out of them is the crescendo effect
(on about half of the songs, but reaching a proverbial climax on ʽUniversalʼ).
Ironically, though, once again they sound in this like a poorboy equivalent of
somebody else — for instance, the above-mentioned GY!BE, who must have
undoubtedly been one of the crucial influences on the album (even in its purely
ambient-atmospheric interludes with spoken philosophical overdubs, like
ʽPresenceʼ, featuring a metaphysical lesson from Stan Ambrose).
I understand what it is they are trying to do,
and, once again, can bring myself to respect it (especially because they do
not stoop to, say, generic Christian rock), but not a single one of these songs
is capable of actually moving me the way that, say, George Harrison's All Things Must Pass can — in fact,
whenever I try to stay focused on any of this stuff, I get proverbially bored,
just because each new song becomes fully predictable in a matter of seconds. At
least GY!BE had a knack for seeking out truly excellent chord sequences and
then giving them the full royal treatment: the Cavanaghs, in comparison, settle
for palliatives (that Chopinesque piano riff on ʽUniversalʼ sounds nice, but it
never really goes anywhere or resolves itself into anything worthy of
attention) and make blissful muzak that never reaches the epic heights of GY!BE
and is even less capable of competing with classic prog.
I realize that such is their schtick, and that,
having spent all their previous career building up largely static sound
panoramas, they have no reason to change that approach to something more
dynamic even now that they have seen the light. But that does not mean that we
really have to settle for anything less than the best there is, and the only
thing that is truly «best» about this new "life is eternal!" approach
of theirs is Steven Wilson's mix. It also goes without saying that this whole
new metaphysical twist is every bit as unoriginal and clichéd as their «dying
bride»-era creations. Last spoken lines of the album: "And if you could
love enough, you would be the happiest and most powerful person in the
world" — excuse me?.. Okay, okay, so they have this «you can never say too
much about the need for love» agenda now, but couldn't they at least say it in
a slightly more elaborate musical language?
Am I the only one who looked at the title and thought of the clown from the Twilight Zone episode "Five Characters In Search Of An Exit"?
ReplyDeleteI didn't at first -- now I always will. Nice. That's one of my favorite episodes.
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