Review Summary: The defining moment of Thrice’s entire career
My most prevalent memory of
The Alchemy Index dates back to December 6, 2007 at the Electric Factory in Philadelphia. In an experience that included Brand New executing
The Devil and God Are Raging Inside Me to near perfection and mewithoutYou performing their now classic
Brother, Sister, the night somehow still belonged to Thrice. From the moment they took the stage, they exceeded my wildest expectations – plunging me into a combination of adrenaline-inducing excitement and sensory awe. I still remember the feeling of exhilaration that washed over me when I heard those all too recognizable sirens wailing at the introduction to ‘Firebreather’ – as well as the tangible pause right before the sludgy, distorted riffs crashed down on the venue, incinerating my ears as the mosh pit went insane. I also distinctly recall the light show they put on during the
Water portion of their set list, various shades of blue with purple and yellow ripples washing across the room as if to extinguish the fire they just caused with that raucous introduction. It was a spine-tingling combination of aesthetic extremes, and it’s one of those memories that will forever be imprinted in my mind.
It’s that same sense of natural balance that continues to draw me to
The Alchemy Index years later. There’s nothing aflame that cannot be quenched; nothing gliding across the stratosphere that will not eventually meet an earthly demise. While the entire EP collection covers the four primary elements (including air and earth),
The Alchemy Index: Vols. I & II deals only with fire and water – arguably the two most volatile of forces.
Fire summons the violence and destruction that one might expect, from searing riffs and unintelligible shouts to flickering electronic embers. One of my favorite things about
The Alchemy Index in general, but that is especially true of
Vols. I & II, is that Thrice are never content to settle for mere sonic adaptations of these elements. The subtle production variations between discs, the lyrical choices, and the song structures themselves all set each element apart in a way that goes well beyond cut-and-paste aesthetic clichés.
Fire is drenched in distortion, but it’s all hot, dry, and heavy – it’s careful to never shimmer or reverberate on a level that could be confused with one of the other more picturesque elements. Each track is still a standard Thrice song in that the band doesn’t simply draw out long ambient passages that signify their element of choice. These are “real” post-hardcore tracks that involve every earth-bound instrument and manipulate them primarily through song craft. The way that ‘Firebreather’ sweeps in with its ominous sirens and hugely addictive riffs is reminiscent of fire pouring out of a building window, each choral refrain fanning the flames higher; ‘The Messenger’ is like standing in the wreckage atop the smoldering coals, screaming in dismay as the ashes glow beneath your feet; ‘Backdraft’ is sinister and perfectly captures the essence of its namesake, with each “Oh, swing the door wide open!” chorus bursting through the speakers like flames through a ventilation-deprived opening. Kensrue’s lyrics are as interesting as the band’s song structures, especially as the
Fire disc reaches its back half. The central theme of ‘The Arsonist’ is derived from G.K. Chesterton’s
Orthodoxy, in which Roman emperor Marcus Aurelius had abandoned hope of there being any virtue in society and no longer cared enough “to wreck or revolutionize it.” In ‘The Arsonist’, Kensrue is espousing the opposite ideology – saying he loves the world enough to set it ablaze in order to revolutionize it: “Burn it down and build it again from the bricks that remain.” ‘Burn The Fleet’ references Spanish conquistador Hernán Cortés, who upon invading enemy shores burnt the ships that carried them en route in order to deny them any outcome other than victory or death: “Burn the fleet, we can never go home, it's on to victory or underground / Burn the fleet, we'll be heroes or ghosts, but we won't be turned around.” The track fades seamlessly into the impenetrably heavy ‘The Flame Deluge’, an all-out screamed track which lyrically recalls the bombing of Guernica by the Nazis shortly after World War II commenced. All of these ideas, themes, production choices, and lyrics allow
Fire to set
The Alchemy Index on a course for success. As a conceptual EP, it is flawless in nearly every way, and Thrice delivers it in a bold, convincing fashion.
Whereas
Fire serves as an even more creative expansion of
Vheissu’s post-hardcore/screamo stalwarts such as 'Hold Fast Hope,' 'The Earth Will Shake', and 'Like Moths to Flame',
Water is a descendent of its aqueous soothers, like ‘Atlantic’, ‘Between the End and Where We Lie ‘, or ‘Red Sky.’ The tension between
Fire and
Water can be readily felt when ‘The Flame Deluge’ effortlessly washes into the cool, crystalline electronics of ‘Digital Sea.’ The contrast in styles during this transition provides
The Alchemy Index: Vols. I & II with a sense of dichotomy that legitimizes each element’s existence as a separate EP. I believe this is why it was so prudent for Thrice to lead off with
Fire and
Water, as the distinction between these two elements is far more discernible than it is for
Air and
Earth.
Water nearly lives up to
Fire despite the downturned intensity. It’s awash in electronics and ambience, which is immediately made clear on the lush ‘Digital Sea’ – a song that’s as catchy as it is hypnotic, while also addressing the frightening capacity for both good and evil that comes with having a society that’s so technologically driven. By the end of the track, Kensrue’s vocals can be heard changing over – less human and more robotic with each repetition. It’s sounds cheesy, but it’s performed with such conviction that it comes across as incredibly concerned and sincere. For as perfectly as ‘Digital Sea’ commences the
Water disc, it only gets better as it goes on. ‘Open Water’ is spacious and breathtaking, and actually accomplishes an “underwater/at-sea” atmosphere more effectively than its predecessor with a combination of electronic pads, artificial beats, and an expansive chorus that sounds as open as the Pacific itself . ‘Lost Continent’ imposes a forlorn tone, making the listener feel “lost at sea” in a way that doubles as a commentary on modern society: “Was there a time that we knew peace? When all the children had a place to sleep? When rhetoric was not enough?... It's always been a lie, a soothing lullaby / We'll soon be swallowed by sea.” Toward the conclusion of the
Water disc, we’re treated to ‘Night Diving’ and ‘The Whaler’, which function perfectly together (and possibly should have been combined into one track) to form one of the most impressive moments in Thrice’s lauded canon. The former is a guitar-driven instrumental with a chime-like backdrop that paints the picture of sun rays dancing upon the ocean floor, whereas ‘The Whaler’ is a frenetic electronic masterpiece that Kensrue wrote for his wife and daughter, lamenting the difficulties of going away on long tours and metaphorically likening it to a whaler who needs to travel upon the ocean for months in order to feed his family. It’s a flourishing moment of electronic ambience that is among the most poignant songs Kensrue has penned. It probably would have made for a better closer than ‘Kings Upon the Main’ – which is gorgeous in its own right, but might have fit better somewhere in the middle of the
Water disc due to its abrupt ending and lack of emotional content compared to ‘The Whaler.’ Still, it’s a meaningful track that urges us to maintain humility and grace in trying times, taking those of us who – through wealth, power, or arrogance – feel invincible within our own sphere and comparing them to “kings upon the main” who are mastered by the forces of God. In this case, they’re humbled by winds, waves, and storms – forcing us to ask ourselves who is to blame: the arrogant man who confronts the sea, or the sea? The answer is pretty clear.
Fire and
Water function together like a yin and yang concept.
Fire burns with a passion meant to remake the world, and
Water is a series of thoughtful proverbs penned from the view of a lighthouse. Either EP stands on its own as a brilliant work of art, but together, they’re a marvel to behold. I don’t remember every second of that 2007 December night, but as I listen to
The Alchemy Index, it all comes creeping back – an experience so transcendent that I still think about it thirteen years later. Played alongside modern cult classics such as
The Devil and God Are Raging Inside Me and
Brother, Sister, it’s understandable how this magnificent achievement could be viewed as an also-ran. Of course,
The Alchemy Index is anything
but. Critics like to call
Vheissu the
Kid A of post-hardcore; I’d argue that
The Alchemy Index in its entirety – bolstered strongly by its premier and secondary volumes – outpaces everything else as the defining moment of Thrice’s entire career.
