Review Summary: Letting go is for cowards
Have you ever tried keeping anyone? It's a lot harder than it might seem - and PBTT know that. First off, let me address the ever-present issue of clean vocals. I think it's great. I'm going to be honest here: the only thing keeping me(!) from fully enjoying the former Pianos records was the screamo singing - which I'm not against per se, but which I find tiring after a while. So here we are, clean vocals and all, trying to engage in the delicate balancing act of keeping you while keeping ourselves as well. Quite the task indeed.
How does one go about such a project? The sorrow-filled riffs and the silently schizophrenic drumming certainly help to set the mood - but a whole lot more is needed, considering that who we are attempting to keep is in fact no longer here. Paradoxical enough yet? If not, then try the opening passages of "Lesions" on for size:
"And if it's true, here's me telling you
And here's me glad as hell that you'll never know"
How could you never know, if I'm standing right here, telling you that it's true? Well of course you can "know" the factuality of the situation. But the factual level is probably the most superficial level as well. And here's PBTT to shed light on the depths, on the maelstrom beneath the soothing waves of the simple act of remembrance. Because of course you'll never know. You'll never know my perspective, you'll never know the impact all this has on me, you'll never know what it's like to remember/keep/love you - because you just simply cannot do it youself. Viewed through these lenses, Keep You is the tale of the struggle to tell someone else what it feels for us to keep them - and seeing how that is quite impossible, the endeavor seems to be pretty ambitious, to say the least.
And this is where Pianos excel. Reaching out to fictitious extremes ("I had a thought to make a charcoal trace of your grave and hang it on my wall"), dragging the narrative back to the mundane and profane ("how odd life would be if you had made it from Elmira to Kansas city"), dressing it up in metaphors ("Your wick won't burn away"), and boldly stating how it's going to be. This latter phase is a gem of its own, seeing how it's got nothing to do with the other's point of view: "I'm breathing easy, / I'm breathing sharp, / I'm all sand and heat, / I'm keeping you"
The decision conquers all - conquers the doubts, the second-guessing, even conquers the one being kept as well. As it should. These four little assertions carry the weight of an unspeakable burden, and yet they are not even the most shattering declarations of the record. This honor instead goes to the frightening honesty of the sentence uttered in "Old Jaw": "I guess I marked my life with your lines more than I ever did mine." We are, after all, what others build us up to be - and this is not the depressive/submissive resignation of someone without faith or hope, this is merely the admission of the fact that none of us live in isolation, that interactions and afflictions shape the persons we ultimately end up becoming, that without the other there is, simply put, no "me" at all to talk about.
And even if "I can't hold smoke", I may just walk through fire and absorb it. Sure, it's going to be damaging, it's going to hurt for days (weeks? months? years?), but it's going to be worth it. "So let's say nothing some more", and listen instead to a band challenging oblivion and actually winning, for it is a voice seldom heard nowadays.
