Swans - My Father Will Guide Me Up A Rope To The Sky
- Written by David Lichfield
My Father Will Guide Me Up A Rope To The Sky, the 12th album from Michael Gira's avant-garde noise-rockers Swans finds the act in typically uncompromising form. Their first studio album in 14 years, it includes songs previously released in acoustic form on the collection 'I Am Not Insane'. With eight songs clocking in at 45 minutes, it's a testing affair, but contains enough drama and ideas to make it an engaging one.
Opening with foreboding bells giving way to a one-chord death rattle, 'No Words/No Thoughts' sets the scene perfectly. Like the majority of the album, it's a highly rhythmic dirge that takes no prisoners, almost military in its execution. After seven Angels Of Light albums, Gira decided that his new material was better suited to his old project, but stresses that the revised Swans are concerned with looking to the future, after their 1997 disbandment.
Despite the intensity of the album, there are moments of sonic gentleness, though the lyrics of such moments remain as bleak as ever. 'Reeling The Liars In' is a Nick Cave-esque folk number that speaks of sitting around a campfire of burning liars, just to keep warm. 'Jim' is also built around one simple chord, but the slow, cathartic grooves and accessible melodies at the heart of it keep it a fascinating proposition. It's impossible not to use the term 'dirge' to describe the feel of the collection, but it's a compliment rather than a criticism. It's no easy listen, but the jazz-tinged gospel aspect of the vocals is hypnotic, ensuring that the length of each track seems necessary.
A more discontent-sounding album would be difficult to locate, but somehow, even though the pounding negativity and doom should scream 'endurance test', there's something quite fascinating about the way it offers barely a shred of hope whatsoever. With titles like 'You Fucking People Make Me Sick' (starring Devendra Banhart and Gira's three year old daughter), even a lyric like “I love you, young flower, now give me what is mine” sounds like the least comforting statement ever commited to tape, especially considering the destructive cacophony of percussive horror and humming brass that follow it.
'Inside Madeline' is reminiscent of Spiritualized at their most cinematic, with an intro sadly cut down from the ten minutes Gira had previously planned. Not shy of getting locked into a groove, most of the album seems to wants to pummel it's hooks into your brain, as moments build and build apocalyptically. Though the pace is generally slow, the aggression is relentless, not least on 'Eden Prison', held together by a simple siren-like riff and a bassline that couldn't realistically be chunkier, and the “I am free to begin again” chorus is genuinely liberating.
What should be an ugly, impenetrable offering actually seems to fly by, though any more than eight songs would be indigestable. Pleasingly revolting, and lends further weight to the enduring morbidity-equals-great-art school of thought.