DAWNBRINGER: Keith Richards sits in with Mercyful Fate, plays Pink Floyd covers.
you feel your interest rise and you desire more… read more here. listen to it here. hear it all the way through and tell me that seemingly-hyperbolic tagline doesn’t sum it up—were you to think me wrong, I accept Trollish comments….
I found myself fascinated, like schadenfreude, like morbid pity, like the dread after a distant gunshot… with nucleus and its atmosphere
behold the mood! like ‘round the campfire, late at night: vibes intimate, vibes haunted, like Mercyful Fate, or the intro to John Carpenter’s The Fog.
listen, children, to this theme album and its tragic story :
a smoky Tom Waits/ Paolo Conte “voice,” in first person (so rare in lyrics), bereft-of-range rich-in-character, compelling you to hear its narrative… the vocals I cd understand well, but the speaker so oblique about what happened to him… like a drunk— like a dying man giving you ellipses about his pain…
can he not specify, or does he not dare?
his tone urgent: dig what happened to me! the more you know, the more you want to hear; the more you hear, the more you want to know…
I found myself left not knowing the why of the narrator’s pain… just the throb of its feeling
…which is what music is for….
then guitars, I said!… elaborate skeins of melody that are the songs… that are not just solos… legato tracks (they all flow together) and musical movements as legato shredding—chromatic arpeggios with the story cresting on its top… glissandos of foreshadowing and analepsis…!
guitar tone low-almost-no gain: like left lane cruiser or stevie ray vaughn (the texas flood through an English moor)– like it should be played on an old black telecaster
it’s not “retro”… it’s that the music Dawnbringer needed was sometimes created decades ago
the music’s genre palatte is WIDE:
black metal/ stoner/ NWOBHM/ rock/ progressive… BUT! all consistent with the sound of Dawnbringer- all genres serve the song itself, which in turn serves story—a rare thing, this:
like a color metaphor: seems one color, but’s actually a blend of millions of separate shades (not “blue/yellow/blue/yellow” but… “GREEN!”)
that damned célinean elliptical technique (from the Lt. ellīpticus— piece by piece by piece) thrusting Fable beside fiction, fantasy, Folktale™— into our rapt faces— hot spotlighting narrator’s tragedy in flashback at 01:30 into “The Devil”…
we looked to one another, as we pushed ahead in chains…
one night I said, “Tomorrow, I can find my own way home…”
and I know what something followed me that night I walked alone
…in darkness I awakened to a devil in my home
to quote “Cataract”:
hear me: I saw them drowned at night, swept out to sea….
more tracks/ chapters:
“All I See”= Discharge smeared with Nachtmystium (prolly no coincidence, that)— ends on the angry snake melody of Charlie Daniels’ devil gon’ down georgia—Paganini slurred jagged, minor: frantic melody, Grieg on a fiddle
“Pendulum,” a palindrome in timbre: opens (closes!…) with acoustic guitar micro-tones out of tune (backwards)— just enough to keep the tune recognizable, but smeared, like looking through a stained glass window— and then through a clear pane once melody uppedy-winds back in tune
As with confessions, nucleus works as a whisper… works as a roar!
sidenote: “Dawnbringer” not affirmative, as it may sound…
to quote “Swing Hard”:
I look to the nighttime to unchain the mind
and so after the narrator’s long nightmare— behold the Dawn Brung:
the cold light of day… from a sun stubbornly refused again to lie dead, making bright the tragedies last night…
And in the end we ache, even after we’ve forgotten why.