Green Of Life-Weird Peace

In 2008, Neutral Milk Hotel's 1998 classic In The Aeroplane Over the Sea came in sixth, ahead of Dark Side, Fleet Foxes and Metallica's Death Magnetic. Guns n' Roses' Chinese Democracy on the list of Nielsen SoundScan 2008 Top Vinyl Sellers. The enduring hype stays for 8 years and strong, upon which the record is still highly sought after by avid collectors, be that local or abroad , regardless of constant usage of the album as hipster mockery. 

The consequence of the sudden fame of the late bloomer is conspicuous. In 1 out of 10 tumblr powered blogs, you can see faded picturesque pasted with “And one day we will die/ And our ashes will fly from the aeroplane over the sea/ But for now we are young/ Let us lay in the sun/ And count every beautiful thing we can see” snippet from the title track. But albeit all the consequence, I couldn’t resist to continue embracing the likes of “Oh Comely” and “Two Headed Boy Part 2”, songs that portrayed the emotionally suffocated Mangum who confronted misfortune in all cases with steadfast endurance.

Along with the eternal hype, sometimes I questioned, is there anyone in the local scene got enough balls to draw inspiration from Jeff Mangum or Neutral Milk Hotel? The answer partially came several months ago through Andra Semesta, a versatile songster under the moniker of “Green of Life”.

Green of Life is like no other. Adapting Neutral Milk Hotel is never a piece of cake but, begged to differ, Andra, armored with naught but a piece of acoustic guitar and avid, enthusiastic, sometimes emotional (and off-key) vocal in his disposal, conquered the odds painstakingly by delivering his visceral pondering in a sense of exigency, the deliverable which is well-documented in his latest effort: “Weird Peace”. 

While popular theory suggested that Mangum drew inspiration from Anne Frank, Andra chose to draw inspiration from himself, something that he knew well with enough drips of metaphors and allegories. 

Wasting no time, He kickstarted the EP with enchanting narration, “My Geommetry”, a failed celebration of his culturally-fulfilled peaceful life: Feeling alone, feeling as empty as can be/ Feeling amused, by the shapes of my geometry/ People would help me, but I just built that wall by myself / People would care about me, but I just built it cause I felt that I must/ Feeling so strange, feeling as zany as can be/ Feeling ashamed by the truths in my reality/ People would let me be free, but I just made some rules to hold me in/ People would let me be free but I just locked the door and keep myself in. But the “Weird Peace” he had found didn’t seem enough in the battle with his shameful ugly reality, hence the need for “one more person for that place to be complete. Even books and music won’t be able to complete him because those remind him that his significant other (“The Key”) is always in his mind. A slap for the “single and proud” pennant-carrying chaps.

But his agenda is not merely to slap.

The idiosyncratic vocal arrangement in the angst-ridden and tumultuously-assembled, “People Like Us”, oddly enough, substantiated the idea upon which the song is assembled: rage and doubt. Amidst the curse to: “That priest who is spreading your love but in turn left his lover to rot in the dark/ preacher, preaching his war”, he begged to: “People like him not to leave him” and “the hand that guide him to never untie”, all delivered in an inspired mix of Pavement, Mangum and enough dose of emotion.

The EP is at its strongest at the moments that show off Andra’s songwriting per se: the witty-wandering “The Crossing Song” and the retrospective “My Family”.

“The Crossing Song” is a charming wit, an enticing remedy to recuperate oneself from one’s predicament. A sympathetic pat to one’s back. I’ve been playing the song for hundred times for my self-referential meditation and it never fails.

And if Neutral Milk Hotel renowned for the whole chapter of their “King of Carrot Flowers” and “Two Headed Boy”, Green of Life will surely be celebrated for “My Family”. The song which is a heavenly beautiful observatory narration upon which the beauty is sabotaged by daunting punchline: “And at the end of the day I’ll just be glad that they’ll always stick for me/ And the rest of my life I would be blessed if they do believe in me”.

Garnering international attention, Green of Life is yet to gain any local momentum but as (self-proclaimed) one of the people “like” him, I wish and pray that adequate exposure is imminent.

Pay a visit via facebook or bandcamp

Hooks Are For Squares: Interpol-'Interpol'

“Criticism is something you can easily avoid by saying nothing, doing nothing, being nothing” ~Aristotle

Some might think that music fans are the worst. Casual fans, to be exact. Most of them are trying too hard to establish their identity by purchasing every physical releases of what current trend offers while incessantly worrying about losing their prepaid hard earned wedge albeit the reputation or workload of independent retailers upon whom they place their payment. Some others elevate the axiom by thinking that most of those casual fans camouflage their fandom in the veil of music journalism, hence the casual music journalism, which can be figured (and pointed) out in no sweat. 

But to me, crème de la crème of this much ado about music is critic whose critique usually revolves around pointing out divergence of one musical output from a band (“album”) against its predecessor(s) or another band’s albums which built upon foundation established by another band and the list went on until you got nothing but tribal beats found by the early homo sapiens, our ancestors. A condition which amusingly captured by the picture below.

 

Hence the necessity for most bands for constant validation, be it from alt or mindie publications, by writing songs critics and discerning crowd want to hear and being something they will find impressive. Little did they know, validation seeking is something that will harm their true selves, cause them to start doing nothing while nodding to the same patterns (or requests) all over again and avoiding to do important things. 

 Luckily, that’s not what happens to Interpol (in 2010) upon the release of their Self-Titled Album, “Interpol”.

 

Staying true to their salience, upon which doing nothing is to repeat what they have done, Interpol observe the first golden rule of rock and roll and take opportunities where the potential for reward is high, but the possibility for criticism was equally enormous.

The worst (and best) thing about Interpol is their mastery of deceitful profundity and that what makes me love them. Being a bunch of prolific musicians and accomplished image crafters, it is somewhat burdensome for typical listener to get rid of the temptation to correlate “NYC” with 9/11 and accept that there’s nothing substantial that underlies the song, so it’s just merely subtly-written breakup song.


While on the more discerning critique, I can see that some of them think that Interpol are just a bunch of hook-producing alpha males and the lack thereof, surprised them:


“At the core of every great Interpol song hangs a hook so barbed it could draw blood, no matter how heavy the surrounding goth atmospherics. But somewhere between 2004's Antics and the mostly tepid 2007 major-label debut Our Love to Admire, the noirish New Yorkers lost the monster sing-alongs and danceable rhythms that made early tracks "PDA" and "NYC" so captivating. That trajectory continues on their fourth album, as the group continues to drift where they once focused intently.
…
When artists self-title albums, it's often a statement of purpose or of redefinition, but that's not the case here. Interpol sounds both strangely distant and overly familiar, like a band struggling to remember who they are.” - Josh Modell


But the last time I checked, I still believe that Interpol are bigger than Captain Hook.


As those hooks on their previous offerings start to build the crux upon their reputation, one can easily fathom the purport of the artwork of “Interpol”: Demolishing of a perfectly sculptured monument that resembles Interpol (the band) to pull the band into a familiar territory. Something inconceivable by the “sightless” Josh Modell.


Upon Interpol’s emergence, I could easily find the word “Joy Division” written in 10 out of 10 articles about the band (the name-dropping that I considered objectionable). And when Interpol finally entered the same state of “Closer” (“Isolation” + several monotonous goth songs = ”Barricade” + several monotonous goth songs, compressed in approximately 40 minutes), typical fans and most critics are dumbfounded by the band’s approach. (Please note that 2010 marked the rise of “dark ambient”-thingy across the scattered music universe and the fact that young folks felt more fulfilled by wearing “Unknown Pleasures” t-shirt instead of “Closer”). 
 




As what Paul Banks said to “give some meaning to the means to your end”, he decided to add some meaning to the band’s entrance to the realm of “Closer”. “Success” is a preemptive decree to set his band apart from their fellow contemporaries and embark to “the great unknown”: “Dreams of long life/ What safety can you find?/ If the sea was that strong/ Maybe we had to fly” because: “I have succeeded/ I won't compete for long/ I'm not not supposed to show you/ I've got two secrets/ But I only told you one”. “Safe Without” is a bold statement of saying no to validation: “I'm not the hero out the gate/ So much to feel, so much to gain/ My higher reason will take pain/ I'll be okay, I've got my shapes/ We are not alone, we share our stake/ And I think the winds all will be wonderful/ Go alone, we'll spread the chase/ To all the roller copter way/ There's no allegiance left to take/ These great big sheets disintegrate”. And finally, their farewell note to Capitol: All that I see/ Show me your ways/ Teach me to meet my desires... with some grace/ All that I fear/ Don't turn away/ And leave me to plead in this hole of a place.../ What if I never break/ Estuary, won't you take me/ Far away, far away/ All that I seek/ Please police me/ I want you to police me/ But keep it clean/ All that I feel/ Capital ways teach me to grieve and conspire with my age/ All that I can see/ A gold mystic spree/ A seething routine I could never navigate, maybe I like to stray/ No harm it seems to be less so free... not today/ It's like you want it that way”).


Musically speaking, typical fans despised “Interpol”. The album somewhat lacked vigor but anyone who LISTENED to “Closer” should’ve thought that “Interpol” is a solid album. Note the machine-like drumming in “Try It On” which directly borrowed from “Heart and Soul” and opted to substitute its bass chord with piano. “All Of The Ways” is to “The Eternal” as “Summer Well” is to “Passover”. Guitars are getting heavier and abrasive like slow approaching snowstorm (“Lights”, “Memory Serves” and “Success”) but also tingling just like old times when necessary (“The Undoing” and “Safe Without”).


Finally, as a legacy to the band, D contributed his most evocative but angular yet brilliant painting via his deft left fingers as his canvas and plectrum on the right as his brush as if every minuscule plucks upon his bass strings on “Barricade”, a reminiscent of “Isolation”, sounds both spontaneous and calculated. A true masterpiece that probably drove Hooky to apply for D’s position and the three legged Interpol to turn him down.

Interpol’s attempt to bring “Closer” into the new millennium, adorned with slicker production, is a subtle pejoration to faux fans and critics who compared them to Joy Division at the wrong time while documenting four well-versed musicians boldly switch out of their comfort zone and jump in head first into the realm of near-nothingness.

“Interpol” is also “the why” some people won’t be as awesome as Gerard Cosloy.




PS: When Joy Division dissolved right after "Closer", in a not so twisting plot, Interpol rode on. Is the current Interpol is the new New Order?