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Ebonylake – In Swathes of Brooding Light

Ebonylake
In Swathes of Brooding Light
by Eric “Carnegie” Hall at 17 May 2012, 9:25 AM

You wouldn’t guess it by reading my reviews, but I sometimes come off as a bit of a pessimistic, elitist cynical bunghole that gets his kicks by putting others down. I’m not really any of those things. But I can honestly say that I do not attempt to sugar-coat any of my opinions. If you expect me to hold your hand, massage your testicles and tell you every little thing is going to be all right – keep on moving because that is not happening anytime soon. Unless I am super-duper high, then I actually might.

I make the case because everything I am about to say is going to come off as very acerbic if you take it out of context. So just let me finish and we can get through this thing peacefully without getting into a screaming match.

The album I just listened to is a piece of garbage. It’s a plethora of discordant melodies and disjointed motifs hobbled together and passed off as “avant-garde” music. Well fuck that. Somehow there is this misguided idea that defying convention grants you an automatic deepness and profound sense others lack. No, in my eyes I think you just lack real talent and desperately want attention.

Remember that conventions are conventions for a fucking reason. Society dictates we wash our hands after a particularly splashy poo – Are you a deep philosopher for defying it? Of course not! But of course artwork has the amazing ability of being completely subjective to every individual’s opinions, so expect there to be those hip cats that are too cool for you to get them, man.

“No, man, you just don’t get it, dude. This album is a very deep journey through human existence and musical experience. It’s too deep for you to understand, bro. You just don’t get it, man. Don’t feel bad though, man, it’s not for everyone. Only a select few of us cool people can really understand what EBONYLAKE is all about.”

Well, that’s how I imagine a retort to my opinions would sound, anyway. There is nothing to get. All it is an hour of crappy piano playing, some untalented frontman growling, and recordings of the fucking wind blowing. Oh yes, this album is just too deep for me. It’s so avant-garde I just can’t even begin to understand it.

Or maybe it’s just a retarded album made by blabbering artists clinging to terrible ideas of structure and creativity. Yes, I do believe I’ll go with that. The saddest part is that there actually are some good individual riffs and musical motifs thrown about here or there in a scattered mess – in the same sense that someone tore the Mona Lisa to shreds and flung the little pieces into the air with nary a care. Maybe you can tape or glue the mess back together, but it will take too much precious time that could be used doing anything else.

Not to completely ruin the idea of experimentation. By all means, try new things. Maybe EBONYLAKE can record their next album by slamming a guitar against a terminally ill child and mixing that with the sounds of fat people chewing candy. Or better yet, by letting themselves go.

1 Star Rating

Tracklist:
1. And From the Seas the Sickening Things
2. I Painted the Suicide of Neptune
3. The Curious Cave of Deformities
4. In Swathes of Brooding Light Skeletal Birds Scratch at Broken Windows
5. Human Mannequin Puppeteer
6. Licking at the Nesting’s of Young Fledglings
7. Amethyst Lung Concerto
8. Within Deepest Red (The Opening of…)
9. The Theory of Sexual Carvings
10. A Voice in the Piano
Lineup:
Matthew “Mass” Firth– Guitars
Ophelius– Vocals / Guitars / Keyboards
Record Label: Les Acteurs de l’Ombre Productions
     


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