There are three words that are almost guaranteed to make me pay attention to a band: “Emma. Ruth. Rundle.”

Outside of her darkly beautiful doom-folk solo material, she also has a number of other projects, such as the post-metal-meets-Pink-Floyd of Red Sparowes, the psychedelic alt-folk of Nocturnes, and this, the dark, grooving, vibey Marriages (featuring Andrew Clinco, a.k.a. Deb Demure of Drab Majesty on drums).

2015’s Salome, to date the only full length from Marriages, combines all of my favorite parts of Rundle’s separate projects into a single work that is as gorgeous as it is crushing.

As the principal songwriter and lead vocalist, Marriages carries more than a passing resemblance to Rundle’s most recent solo record, On Dark Horses. Her subtly twanging voice floats above the dark atmospheres of guitars and synths. But there’s a heaviness here that’s more reminiscent of her work with Red Sparowes. Those atmosphere swell into huge crushing guitars slathered in effects pedals and crashing drums. Even the quieter moments are richly multifaceted, the intertwining layers weaving around eachother.

Opener “Liar” lights the powderkeg, Rundle using her guitar more as a noise maker than an instrument, string scrapes and feedback interjecting between the grooves of Greg Burns’ fuzzy bass lines and Clinco’s martial drum pattern. Then in the chorus, the keg explodes with the magnitude of a biblical plague.

“Skin” then emerges from the scorched remains of “Liar.” It’s a somber tune, but packs all of the same power of the opener—even before it bursts into a wall of noise halfway through. “Santa Sangre” (Holy Blood) is similarly subdued, though with a bouncier groove and a major key turn toward the end (put to the lyric, “I’ll wait till you bleed out.” Cheery). “Less Than” crashes around an ascending synth line in a way that I’d like to think my own band does sometimes.

The centerpiece is the six-minute title track, a meditation on the biblical Femme Fatale who was rewarded the head of John the Baptist for a striptease. The lyrics are abstract enough that you’re not totally sure what specific angle they’re taking, but that ambiguity does nothing to rob the song of its power. It’s a massive monolith that includes the album’s sparsest and densest moments.

Despite the easy comparisons to her own catalog, this record is difficult to describe. I sat for about ten minutes staring at the blinking cursor in the blank “genre” tag on my record collection spreadsheet before settling for “Alternative rock.” But that’s really a cop out more than a description. There are moments of massive doom metal catharsis, dense shoegaze textures, intricate post rock figures, psychedelic sound bending, folk songcraft…would “art rock” work? That does little to describe either the glistening atmospheres or the ominous heft of the songs. It is a singular record that draws on several different musical touchstones while simultaneously belonging to none of them. It is a brilliant piece of art that once again proves to me the peerless mastery of Emma Ruth Rundle. Now if I can just track down a copy of that Nocturnes record…

 

Edit: there’s also a companion art book for this album made up of paintings, drawing, and photography from the band members. I need to find me a copy.