I’ve often made allusions in this space to certain types of music I enjoy which are often derided by both friends and foes alike as “that weird music.” But since today happens to be October 31st, I thought I’d take it a step further and not just discuss “that weird music,” but a subset of “that weird music” that has been referred to in the past as “that Halloween music.” Now, I’m not talking about actual Halloween music, like scary sound effects, or songs for kids who want to go Trick-or-Treating. Nor am I talking about popular music with a “Horror” theme like “The Monster Mash,” “Thriller,” “Don’t Fear the Reaper,” “Werewolves of London” or “Somebody’s Watching Me.” No, I’m talking about music that is for all intents and purposes normal, if a little “weird,” which inspires paranoia, dread, or other creepiness in its listeners.
The best example of this phenomenon, and the band which first inspired someone to comment that it sounded like “Halloween music,” was Bristol, England’s Portishead. Their music, a lo-fi blend of Jazz, Rock, Soul, psychedelia, turntablism, and Hip-Hop beats crafted from gritty samples and live instrumentation was dramatic and often just plain eerie, as if it had been culled from the soundtrack of some old spaghetti western, film-noir gangster flick, or tale of international espionage where all the actors had been replaced by the freaky zombies and monsters from Silent Hill or something. And the sounds that came out of lead vocalist Beth Gibbons’ mouth, though beautiful and beguiling were more often than not utterly haunting and otherworldly. The band hasn’t graced us with a studio album since 1997’s self-titled sophomore LP. But posts on their blog claim they have a new album completed which is now in the mixing and mastering process. So though we didn’t get in time for Halloween I suppose we should finally start expecting a new Portishead album.
When I got Waking the Mystics, the newest album from Portland, Oregon-based quartet Sophe Lux this Summer the first thing I thought was “hmmm, this reminds me of Portishead.” Then I listened some more and decided it’s a little more like Portishead playing operatic Prog-Rock at a Gothic Jazz cabaret. Sure, there are slow, dirgey tracks with hard beats and howling vocals that are reminiscent of P-Head, but there are also more upbeat numbers, the sounds of synthesizers, bubbling basslines, fuzzy guitars, pianos and electric pianos, and a schmaltzy theatricality that calls to mind Rasputina, the Dresden Dolls and even the Fiery Furnaces. Whatever it sounds like though it’s almost always deliberately dark, with singer Gwynneth Haynes using her voice in decidedly unusual ways to imbue her lyrics, which touch on the horrific, the spiritual, and even material suited for science-fiction, in addition to more traditional popular song fodder like love, with something of a supernatural atmosphere. The futuristic melodrama of “Marie Antoinette Robot 2073 (A Rock Opera)” is one of the weirder, and campier, moments on the album. But it’s also one of my favorites, and totally suited to such an auspicious day as today.
Listen to “Marie Antoinette Robot 2073 (A Rock Opera)”
If that doesn’t make you want to gorge yourself on candy, I don’t know what would.
-El Keter
