Violet Psalms

構成数 : 1枚
合計収録時間 : 00:38:12
Personnel: Carey Mercer (vocals, guitar); Terri Upton (vocals); Shyla Seller (synthesizer); Melanie Campbell (drums, percussion). Audio Mixers: Sydney Hermant; Michal Kozlowski; Daniel Bejar; Joshua Wells; Carey Mercer. Recording information: Quadraticus Studios. Since transitioning from Blue Pine to Frog Eyes in 2002 with the frantic Bloody Hand, Carey Mercer has carved out a unique swath of sonic real estate, spitting out idiosyncratic slabs of kinetic post-punk and wily art rock with the nervy fervor of a lead-poisoned carnival barker with a poetry Ph.D. After seven albums, a bout with throat cancer, deaths in the family, and multiple personnel changes, Mercer is closing the book on Frog Eyes, noting that "there's a ring-like circle to eight." The resulting Violet Psalms is more measured, but no less distinctive (and destructive) than previous outings, delivering all of the architectural twists and turns, fragmented rhythms, and surreal narratives that have come to define the group over the years. The staccato buzz of a guitar cable locking into an amp greets the listener on the dreamlike opener, "A Strand of Blue Stars," a twitchy and twangy voyage through the heart of darkness that concludes with Mercer wailing the elliptical conundrum "You've got to be the door that you walk through that sets you free." Bleak, compelling, surreal, and impenetrable, it makes for a jarring introduction, but the band quickly dispels the disquiet with two of its most accessible and strangely beautiful offerings to date. The languid "Little Mothers" feels downright summery compared to its predecessor, as does the atypically bouncy -- and dare it be said, pop-forward -- "Idea Man," the latter of which is the closest the group has ever gotten to crafting a proper earworm. Still, the Apocalypse is calling, and it's Mercer and company's mission to give it a proper soundtrack, which they do with great aplomb on the portentous "Itch of Summer Knees" and the lumbering, ramshackle, and riff-heavy "Your Boss's Shirt." Concluding with the Bowie-esque "Pay for Fire," which deftly navigates the extremes of both light and dark, Violet Psalms puts the mad genie back in the bottle, capping off a 17-year career spent basking in the cruel glow of corporeal unease, and the sweet, spiritual relief that honest art can provide. ~ James Christopher Monger