moondrifts

ghastly city sleep

[listen/purchase]

i sank between the teeth
there's no turning back
a silence too black to break

i can preface this by confessing that i'm not typically an album-listener. my listening habits are disorganized--i tend to jump between tracks and assemble my own mixes to shuffle depending on my mood. moondrifts is so cohesive, so distinct that it only feels right to let it carry me from start to finish.

the art that accompanies the record sets a dreamlike tone, one that harmonizes with the imagery conjured by the music itself. the swell of billowing leaves me feeling wind-whipped, alone on a shore, breathing in the mist over a black sea. the crashing crescendo of seven (33 leagues) hits like a plunge into icy, unforgiving depths, while no no no no calls me back to nights of mania, delusions so deep they could seep into my bones. evans' vocals tug my emotions in seemingly every direction, drifting between devilish hisses, soothing lullabies, and heart-constricting wails.

this is my #1 malkavian inspiration album, and was vital in my development of kurtis. dreamlike and ruminative, shadowy and soul-tinged, it captures a sense of feeling "too much". playful at times, sorrowful at others, achingly heartfelt all the way through.

it seems everyone has a story of an album finding them at a critical time in their life--and in this case, i stumbled upon this one at my lowest and most desperate point. this album became an anchor for me, and years later, it still makes me sing along until i'm breathless and my ribs ache with emotion. moondrifts is an overlooked masterpiece.

smilewound

múm

[listen/purchase]

some people smile with all their teeth
some teeth will ache with every smile
i've done some things you won't believe
i've stabbed and scratched and spewed my bile

at the time of writing this, i'm currently sick with a chest cold. when one of this album's tracks paid me a visit on shuffle, i thought perhaps i should take this time to sit down with it properly for the first time in almost a decade. by the end of the opening track there were tears streaming down my face, so i knew it was well worth revisiting. :)

toothwheels is the scratchy opening track, setting the tone for the album:

in a world of complete make-believe
there's a chance to practice what we preach

throw the hammer, burn the gasoline
we're all toothwheels in the death machine

the sweetness of gyða's voice acts as an anesthetic to her lyrics, dark and violent lines delivered with angelic playfulness. cotton candy dissolving into a dirty puddle. a bloody smile. one of the highlights of this album is candlestick, a bright little pop song about wanting to cave someone's face in with a candlestick, but ultimately deciding against it. :)

emotional piano chords carry us into the colorful stabwound, gyða's delicate, breezy voice whispering of past wrongs. is it an apology, a plea for absolution, or merely an acknowledgement of the harm that all people are capable of?

smilewound is a moving experimental pop album that explores ambiguity, and it's that blurring of sweet and sinister that i can't get enough of. the cover represents this well: two rows of sharply-illustrated teeth strung on colored pencil lines. do they come to form a joyful grin, or a grimace of pain? does the distinction become irrelevant when the roots of each tooth are visible?