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Journalistic articles focusing on longer form music reviews, film and soundtrack analysis and the way society perceives modern art forms.
Album Review:
King Krule -Space Heavy
King Krule is a mysterious and placid creature. Floating just beneath the surface, watching, and studying the world before it sinks lower to the dark depths or thrashes wildly into the night sky. The last sighting of Archy Marshall was on 2019´s Man Alive. A record which addressed issues prevalent in the world. Subjects such as mass immigration from war-torn countries are discussed and smaller and sultry experiences like watching the world from a night-time flight seem to be given the same amount of attention. This last record was more condensed than the 2017 sophomore album The Ooz, a record so massive and ugly it could barely contain the weight of its own artistic prevalence. However, since then, Marshall has experienced several notable changes in his life. He has not only become a father but has also escaped the tight clutches of his old home in South London. These changes seem to have made a positive impact on Marshall as the music being produced on Space Heavy is some of the more positive yet to grace a King Krule Album.
Marshall stated before the release of Space Heavy that the theme of the album was a study into the space between. Whether that be the space between two people, physically or emotionally. The Space between two places, planets, or countries. This theme is populated by the lyrics on songs such as the opening track Flimsier. The sound sounds like a conversation between two people, discussing the final straws of their relationship, with just enough care and attention to dismount, rather than break what is left. The song starts with some moody synthesisers which fade and swell into a solo guitar line. It is then populated with the usual suspects, a distant and soft beat and a plodding bassline. Nothing seems to want to overstate its presence here. Even Marshall's vocal line is soft and unassuming.
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Photo credit to Ant Adams
These moments of fragility are not rare on Space Heavy and are present in a lot of Marshall´s previous albums under the King Krule moniker. They are smooth as silk and laden with dreamy soundscapes. Guitars that swell and ooze, dripping with reverb. What is a notable surprise is the addition of a string section on several of the tracks within Space Heavy. Flimsier as already discussed sports a backing of luscious strings which act as a backdrop to the melancholic guitars. As the album progresses, these moments are explored further, with the strings taking centre stage on tracks such as `Flimsy´ and `When Vanishing´.
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On The Ooz, Marshall explored a variety of methods to tie the album together. Poetry passages read in both English and Spanish acted as bookmarks and interludes to separate sections of the album. While it may have worked within the context of that album, it was criticised for making the album too overbearing. It seems that with his years of experience, Marshall has condensed these moments of creativity into smaller and more focused snippets, making them easier to digest. As a result of this, the album feels a lot more focused on its journey to make its point. There doesn´t seem to be a wasted moment on the record, with every strum and beat backing its importance to get in and out, never overstaying its welcome.
While this is something to praise, there is also a downside to this. Tortoise of Independency could easily have been longer and more fleshed out. However, its relationship with Empty Stomach Space Cadet can certainly make up for this. From This Is My Life, That Is Yours to Flimsy almost acts as its own mini album within the greater context of the other songs.
This run of four songs perfectly blends into one another and builds upon the song that came before it.
One thing that certainly has not changed with King Krule is his ability to conjure moments of pure chaos and mayhem out of nowhere. The first introduction to this post-punk rage is within the second track, directly after the gentle opening of Flimsier. Marshall howls and wails over a boomy bassline, punk-driven beat, and dissonant guitars. The lyrics echo feelings of annoyance and fatigue over travelling vast distances, only to be surrounded by people all proclaiming their love for him. His annoyance is tangible and expressed through his exclaims that he is `Not your girlfriend!´. Just as quickly as this song crashed onto the track list it disappears almost abruptly as it arrived.
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What is probably the most evident on Space Heavy, is the new profound sense of positivity. Something which King Krule fans might find surprising. The song 'Seaforth' which was the lead single to the album was explained by Marshall as being an ode to his daughter and the weekends they would spend at the beach with each other.
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Marshall may have seen his fair share of trials and tribulations, familiar themes and tones which he has expressed in his previous works, however, Space Heavy explores a new space. One which may be uncharted, but with this latest venture, King Krule has laid the foundations for a new element to his music. A new sound that I am intrigued and excited to see where he goes with it next.
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8/10
Food
For
Thought
In search for emotion: Understanding Anempathetic Music
Anempathetic music, wait, what's that?
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Anemapthetic music is a relatively obscure term originally coined by an academic film author Michel Chion. Author of the literary works Sound-Vision and The Voice in Cinema. As explained by Chion, anempathetic music is where a soundtrack or soundscape does not fit the film's emotional tone. Think - Tarantino's Reservoir Dogs and the infamous torture scene.
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I first encountered the term anempathetic music when searching for my dissertation topic. I love films and being a third-year music student, it is safe to say I love music as well.
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Like most other people who enjoy watching films, I had unknowingly witnessed dozens of uses of anempathetic music, most notably in scenes of violence.
For example, the hugely witty 2004 comedy by director Edgar Wright, Shaun of the Dead pairs
Queen's Bohemian Rhapsody to a scene of a zombie being beaten with snooker cues. What should be a scary scene is spun on its head by the inclusion of Bohemian Rhapsody. While the zombie apocalypse survivors are attacking said zombie, it is all choreographed, on the beat, to the famous song.
This expert use of the music completely changes the tone and feeling of the song.
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The next time you watch Shaun of the Dead, try a little experiment. When this scene arrives at the climax of the film, put it on mute. Watch how the scene changes in front of your eyes. Instead of a choreographed and comedic scene of violence, what replaces it is more something that could be considered horror instead of comedy.
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This exercise could be carried over to other films which utilise anempathetic music as well.
Scenes so sinister and violent take on a completely different tone when paired with music that does not fit the emotional weight of what is being depicted on screen.
Shaun of the Dead, 2004 © StudioCanal
Another example of this would be within the film Kingsman: Secret Service. The entire film is a modern reimagination of a classic James Bond spy thriller. Violence, action, and adventure are prevalent throughout. Towards the climax of the film, one of the spy characters played by Colin Firth finds himself in a church whilst a congregation is taking place. The antagonist of the film has developed a computer software signal which transmits across the world. When this signal is picked up by the population’s mobile phones, it alters their cognitive functioning, bringing on a violent rage within every person.
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It is at this moment when the entire church congregation becomes violent. Punches are being thrown and pieces of the pews are ripped apart and used as weaponry. The spy we are following in this scene dodges swings at him and evades attackers whilst shooting them with his service pistol. The bloody and abhorrent violence could be hard for anyone to watch. However, as the violence ensues, Free Bird by Lynyrd Skynyrd bellows over the scene.
The use of this classic 1973 hard rock anthem completely distorts the violence into something stylistic and could be considered cool. It leaves the viewer with conflicting emotions relating to the scene. On one hand, they are witnessing a mass shooting with multiple fatalities. But the music being used communicated another to the audience another message. A message of acceptance and understanding. Almost as if the use of the song is asking the audience to buy into what they are witnessing and not be repulsed by it.
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There can be no doubt that cinema has gradually progressed in every aspect. From camera and audio quality to sound design, make-up and costume design to the way music is incorporated. Violence has become more prevalent and realistic with each passing year. It was not too long ago that swearing and sex scenes were excluded from the cinematic landscape. And yet here we are, only a few decades later, with violent scenes being paired with music that can alter the emotional weight of each thud and blow.
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Whether this is merely an artistic choice and should not be taken too seriously is one opinion. But the nature of the art we consume, the way it may subtly distort our perspective on what we are witnessing must not be disregarded. We should be mindful of how we view these stylistic choices, especially when it comes to violence.
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The Kingsman: Secret Service, 2014 © 20th Century Fox