Often, when a record is treated with mythology and laudation, the actual music itself fails to stand up to its own legend.
Despite being an icon in every regard, Loveless doesn’t have the same struggle. It is a glistening masterpiece that transcends every level of the myth surrounding it.
A lot of people talk about My Bloody Valentine as if they emerged from the ether in 1991 with the masterpiece Loveless.
Not only is that a drastic oversimplification, but it also ignores Isn’t Anything, which is a wonderful record in its own right.
Let’s get one thing straight from the get-go: Jim Henson is a genius of the highest order. While his more realistic character work in movies like Star Wars, the Ninja Turtles movie, or Labyrinth has no peer, his real legacy is in The Muppets.
And when you think about it, the Muppets really have no business being as timeless and transcendent as they are. Nowhere is that more evident in 1979’s The Muppet Movie and its accompanying soundtrack.
It’s no secret that I have a very, very weak spot in my heart for music that blends metal’s punishing heaviness with unabashed prettiness. And the last few years (more specifically, ever since Sunbather brought further attention to the type of gorgeous metal that Alcest pioneered) scores of metal bands have been pushing into the dreamy lushness of shoegaze and post rock—and vice versa.
But few bands do it with the sort of shameless simplicity of Holy Fawn. And thus, few bands do it with as much success.
Over the last few years, I have found myself crossing paths with Colorado’s Comrades on a number of occasions. We’ve played the same festivals (they always have a much better time slot), they’ve played in my living room, and one occasion, I pretended to be on the road with them and Deathbreaker to get free Chick-Fil-A.
Yet for all of this familiarity, I am still astonished every time I get a chance to hear them play (especially in my living room). Their newest record is another genre-melding, heart-rending masterpiece that’s just as likely to fuel a mosh pit as a moment of quiet reflection.
If nothing else, no one can accuse Moving Mountains of putting out the same record over and over again.
Across their three full-lengths, the Purchase, NY outfit visits many of the same sonic touchstones without ever repeating themselves. Their self-titled draws from the same wells of post rock, emo, and indie, but with a marked maturity.
A lot changed in the four years between Pneuma and Moving Mountains’ second record.
Most notably, what was once a studio-only two-piece was now a proper full band. And it shows. Compositionally, Waves has a heft that its predecessor lacked. But that comes at a little bit of a cost.
The marriage of post rock and post hardcore shouldn’t have come as a surprise to anyone. After all, the roots of each are closely intertwined: post rock godfathers Slint came out of the punk and hardcore scene of early 90s Kentucky. Unwed Sailor was founded out of the husk of Tooth & Nail post hardcore outfit Roadside Monument.
But still, when the horns and glockenspiels of “Aphelion” give way to screamed vocals and pounding chords, it’s a bit of a surprise. And as this record continues to weave between the purest forms of each genre, it doesn’t get any less unexpected.
If a mad scientist were to somehow map out my tastes and set about designing my ideal album to lure me into some sort of trap, on paper that siren’s call would sound a bit like “nautically themed sludge metal/shoegaze/post rock/indie rock hybrid.”
But playing through speakers, that idea is even more alluring—not unlike the diver toward the light of the giant angler fish on the cover, I cannot resist this record. I hadn’t even finished my initial listen before purchasing a copy.
Generally, when a band is signed to a major label, they tend to smooth out their sound a little bit.
Nobody must have told the Melvins, because their second release on Atlantic is rawer, sludgier, and more experimental.