Album Review : Zola Jesus - Stridulum II
- Written by Johnny Stockford
You may well turn round whilst listening to Zola Jesus’ Stridulum II on the bus with the full expectation of witnessing Buffy on the back seat roundhousing a zombie‚ such is this record's ability to drag you, fully-clothed, into its netherworld. However, it remains an album that transcends all the ugly cliches of the genre to reveal itself as a record concerned with very human emotions. The album cover, which appears to be of someone getting drenched with melted chocolate or some other kind of dark goo, would suggest a sludgefest. Stridulum II, however, comes across as a wholly natural development for Zola Jesus from lo-fi towards a more commercial goth-pop sound.
You could say that Nika Roza Danilova, the Wisconsin-born singer behind the name, is preoccupied with the same schtick that has seen bookshops devote whole teen sections to the genre of vampire romance‚ tapping into teenage sexual awakenings and overflowing, obsessional desire. However, that would be a disservice, especially since her talent reveals a maturity way beyond her 21 years, as well as a fascination in far more obscure references to horror such as the 1979 film this album was named after, a short clip of which features on the title track.
These songs seem purpose built to fit around Danilova's thick operatic voice‚ with swathes of booming, cavernous noise making the whole record sound like it's being transmitted from an underworld chamber. The drums, which switch between the tribal and militaristic, provide minimalistic backing rather than dictating changes in mood. Alongside the synths, they provide a subtle darkness that never comes close to challenging Danilova's voice, instead allowing it to steadily grow and take control over the dynamics of each track. It's undoubtedly the best thing about Stridulum II, growing on each track from a morose slumber to unleash the kind of insatiable desire and longing that's seemingly been dormant for ever.
This dramatic build from minimalistic intros to swirling, dramatic closes is blueprinted from the off. The opener, 'Night', manages to distil everything good about this record in three and a half minutes, its muffled whispers setting a tone that's suitably inviting and unsettling. Lyrically, Danilova is at her best here - compact and direct, focusing on that classic conflation of sex and death, as she promises her lover‚ “In the end of the night we'll rest our bones”.
Unfortunately, there's no other song here as fully realised as 'Night', and, although each maintains an atmospheric intensity of its own, there is an unwillingness to break away from the same pattern. This means that the second half of Stridulum II suffers from the weight of repetition, even though there's no drop in the quality. In fact two latter tracks, 'Tower' and 'Sea Talk', feature two of the best choruses on the record. On 'Sea Talk', Danilova seems to let the mask slip a little, just enough to make her emotions seem vulnerable: “Do you really know that I care?” she asks. It's a passion that doesn't come across as strange or unsettling, but is surprisingly comforting in its familiarity because, at it's heart, it’s about the basic desire for human company.