Record #979: Midwife – Luminol (2021)

Moving now from one of heavy metal’s most celebrated champions to a hushed artist who calls her brand of music “Heaven metal” (but not in a Stryper way). Listening to Midwife’s output, it might seem like that tag is a joke. But while there isn’t anything obviously metallic (or even heavy) on Luminol, there are glints of sharpness glimmering in the muted, shoegazey atmospheres that betray a sensibility forged in the fires of heavy metal—and if you can’t tell by hearing, their place on the Flenser’s roster should fill you in.

Madeline Johnston, the artist behind Midwife, has a knack for creating songs that are more sonic meditations than pop songs. At their core, the songs on Luminol are incredibly simple. Chord progressions repeat through the duration of the tracks while additional layers rise on top of eachother. The lyrics  often consist of a single line repeated as needed, sometimes swapping out a word or two as they ruminate on death, isolation, social injustice, and more in a lighter-than-air breathy alto.

But don’t make the mistake of thinking that its simplicity is a mark against it. Rather, it’s this simplicity that makes this album so arresting. Were these songs more complex, they wouldn’t have the space to bloom to such vast expanses. Free from hurried chord changes or complex rhythms, sheets of fuzz guitar and synthesizers breathe deep.

And while on the surface, it might sound more like bedroom slowcore or exceptionally weightless dream pop, it might actually take more influence from doom metal. The tempos crawl around 50bpm, and while they’re buried in the mix, the fuzzed out guitars are generously downtuned and mostly play rung-out whole notes.

Luminol gets through its six tracks in 33 minutes, but it feels both longer and shorter than that. The sounds are so expansive that the songs feel practically endless when you’re in them. But when the needle reaches the end of the groove, it’s like stepping out of Narnia’s wardrobe to discover that hardly any time has passed at all. And like Narnia, the break of Luminol’s spell is most of all an invitation to go back.