posted 11/16/2006 (Thu) @ 12:50 pm
>>> Music Reviews
The Gathering - Black Light District (2002)
Anneke, you don’t have to put on the black light
- Black Light District
- Debris
- Broken Glass
An out-of-tune piano can easily concoct dissonant sounds that many might call “haunting.” Doing it with a well-tuned one, well, that requires a bit more skill– and fans of the beautiful timbre of a well-made, well-tuned acoustic piano cannot afford to miss this succinct little record from Holland’s skilled metal quintet The Gathering. The instrument’s use here is expert and unpredictable; “Black Light District” sounds like nothing else this group has put out to date, which might explain why it commands a love/hate relationship among fans.
The title track starts off like a typical exercise in the “slowcore” genre. A lonely piano arpeggio incubates and develops for more than two minutes before sparse, tasteful percussion drops in (along with a masterfully-camouflaged clean electric guitar). Spoken word courtesy of Sarah Jezebel Deva (Cradle of Filth, Angtoria) further sets the mood: “Blaming global infection for the illness in him // Little knowledge of the non-affection between him and his kin // Old, grey, bitter, anxious and collapsed // Like a wallflower once blooming.” Shortly thereafter, Anneke van Giersbergen’s angelic croon washes over the track, which has somehow become dizzyingly complex. Underneath it all, the original piano line repeats.
Listening to it, the listener must realize that this minor key vamp had the potential to either end abruptly or continue, dirge-like, for much past its welcome; fortunately, by six minutes in, “Black Light District” takes a completely unexpected turn: a fuzzy bass beat takes over the song, joined by a sinister distorted riff. This section continues loudly for several minutes before resuming the softer tone of the opening. As a mood piece, it succeeds admirably, and is perhaps the most interesting song The Gathering have yet written.
This will to experiment continues with the strangely-satisfying “Debris,” an equal parts metal and digital romp which, despite queer lyrics (”I twist the truth, I love your youth”?), is a haunting backdrop for van Giersbergen’s lovely singing voice. And the notes she chooses to siren over “Debris” will haunt many a dream. The record finishes off with “Broken Glass,” which sounds almost jazzy with just van Giersbergen, a piano, and an unshakeable sense of melancholy. An attentive ear can pick out the piano lid closing at the end.
Rounded out at just under 25 minutes, “Black Light District” is a perfectly dolorous little record by which to watch sunsets. Probably good vampire music, too, if that’s your bag.
Tags: metal
