Review Summary: It's all part of the process.
Coping with the loss of a loved one.
For someone who’s never had to experience the death of a close friend or relative, the notion of having to come to terms with that loss can be almost as daunting. Depending on your personality, you could react very suddenly and reach an emotional peak immediately, only to settle back into a routine shortly after. Or, perhaps it takes years to gradually come to terms as you meander through inexplicable highs and lows. Hell, maybe you’d document your grieving process using ambient & drone music recorded over several years.
While it might be presumptuous to say lightchaser.’s debut is the outcome of a lengthy grieving process - given the lack of biographical information on the sole member, James Woolsey - practically everything about the album alludes to it. The album is entitled
songs for my father, and is incredibly diverse emotionally. The fact that the album was recorded gradually contributes to the variety of tones and influences strewn across the LP. While the overall sound can be classified as drone/ambient, there are various elements that make each song unique. The lush opening track "when i slept i dreamt of you singing" is a pulsating overlap of what sounds like organ samples and woodwinds. The song operates under the facade of being a one-dimensional drone track, but has rich underlying melodies that contribute to a somber nostalgia.
Nostalgic is the first descriptor that comes to mind when describing
songs for my father, but under closer inspection there are hints of uncertainty. There is no doubt that someone undergoing a great deal of long-term grief could be battling with the events that caused it, as well as the inner turmoil of questioning their beliefs. This is exemplified with the song "all that you are came into me". What’s exceptional about this particular song is how it essentially drops any room for interpretation and tells you exactly what the meaning behind it is. There is a voice sample at the end of the song that manages to uproot any seedlings of hope and burn them in front of you. It seems like an odd choice for an album highlight, but the use of this sample is phenomenal. Its placement boldly shifts the emotional dynamic of the entire album, making it much more disheartened and bleak - in a good way.
While much can be said for lighchaser.’s keen sense of placement, he makes a bit of a hiccup on "the flowers they are blooming from my eyes". And when I say hiccup, I mean it literally. The song is a fairly poignant piano piece with some booming bass elements, but at the 1 minute mark there is an almost indescribable sound effect that resembles a hiccup. This effect is mixed horribly, and it sounds as though lightchaser. is trying plunge your left ear with, well, a toilet plunger. It seems petty to criticize an entire song for one mishap, but it’s justified when this sound effect actually manages to ruin the entire track. As the song progresses, you’ll become increasingly tempted to remove your left earpiece - or skip the song altogether.
But, this is only one skippable song on a seven-song LP, and the other six are excellent. "i can see ghosts moving through the telephone wires" is a standout track that manages to carry a depressing feel while still being catchy. The hook, if you can call it that, is mixed perfectly. It bounces back and forth in your earphones - from left to right - and is infectious despite the otherwise moody tone. "sometimes the stars make electronic noises" has IDM influences, and further exemplifies the diversity present on
songs for my father. The song manages to be pulsating and droning, but carry a tight groove due to the crisp IDM-influenced beats. Perhaps the most heterogeneous song on the album is the closing track "the flowers bleed so many colors". The song features a splendid array of instruments, though subtly presented. The tone is ambiguous, alluding to the aforementioned uncertainty, and is the perfect choice for a closer. After you lose a loved one it’s hard to be certain of anything.
I’ve never experienced the loss of someone close to me, and I’m terrified of what my reaction might be. I could react immediately, and all but completely break down only to pick myself up again shortly after. Or, perhaps I could feel a sense of guilt coinciding with my usual apathy towards death. Hell, maybe I would feel the urge to document my feelings through music.
Would I share these feelings with the world? No… no, I could never do that.
