BLACKFIELD II

Bonjour Tristesse! Blackflield continues on its melancholic path, sharpening the focus of their accessible prog-pop: Nothing like good old fashioned sadness to convey the deepest cut, the wounded heart and the slashed soul. When people judge this as moodily depressive, it only confirms that most forms of musical expression are deeply rooted in suffering and pain: Classical operas and more specifically the entire Russian classical music scene, American blues, punk-rock, Portuguese Fado, Gypsy music, Flamenco and many more.This second chapter in the Wilson-Geffen collaboration, recorded in Great Britain and Israel, features almost all vocals performed by the talented Englishman , even though most songs are in fact written by Aviv . The lyrics are quite bleak, dealing with highly advanced states of heartbreak, skirting very near self-murder ("I wanna die"). Kind of odd and rebellious for a citizen of a society where the powerful religious branches severely frown on suicide, viewed as a cowardly affront to God ("Only he has the right to take the life that he has given") and an almost taboo subject even today. That is why this project must clearly bear the stamp of progressive, as it dares to go beyond the usual fantasy-laden platitudes, address the contemporary ills of our time and perhaps tone down the swirling Hammond runs, the bubbling synths and the groove laden instrumental excursions. Make room for the ghosts of tortured love, with all its exhilarating highs and dizzying lows! The arrangements are sparse, rather uncomplex rhythms, all slaves to the 359 degree melody hooks that adorn each piece. Other reviewers have previously autopsied the tracks, requiring little more added info. There are some overt Beatles influences with some "awfully" pretty moments, long-term adhesives to the cerebral music library, such as the mellotron-synth lilt of "1000 People", the anthemic flippant angst of "Miss U" with its short fade-out guitar solo, the dark "he likes me when I'm down" perfidy of "This Killer", the dirge-like" my heart is open" futility of "Epidemic", the abject surrender extolled in "The Gift of Silence", the seductively repetitive bewilderment of "Where is my Love?" and the inexorable arrival in the "Garden of Sin", the sad finale of a somewhat hopeless life , with a simply gorgeous 6 note piano motif , repeated ad infinitum and played on the altar of "The End of The World". Ending (sic) an album on such a genius song is where the proof of utter quality lies. It didn't hit me right away and I needed to adjust but the romantic nerve was easy to pinch and I have fallen victim to its "Spleen" (Fans of Baudelaire will understand) 4.5 open wounds