In an interview with Julie Christmas, she said, "There is an interesting comparison of the band’s name to a great battle at Megalopolis. King Agis III of Sparta attacked Alexander the Greats regent, Antipater, and a force of 40,000 Macedonian soldiers. According to legend, Agis slaughtered a handful of warriors while on his knees before being killed by a javelin. When Alexander heard of the battle, he is alleged to have said, 'It seems, my friends, that while we have been conquering Darius here, there has been a battle of mice in Arcadia.'”
The band was born at South by Southwest (rather odd place), where Julie Christmas (Made Out Of Babies) and Josh Graham (Red Sparowes, Neurosis) met and began a long distance relationship for this project. According to Julie and Josh, they hated each other instantly, and then developed a strong romantic relationship that became decadent… and went back to hating each other, and it shows through the music in a way you could describe as twisted lust and demented fury. They have explained that the order that the songs were tracked (in studio, not on the record) could be interpreted as a biography of the relationship, but Julie seems to stray from retaining that comment.
The style of the music ranges from post-rock/doom passages to droning, enchanting atmospheres. Josh handles all the compositions, so the Red Sparowes feel is easily recognizable. His guitar is constantly altering sounds, as you generally hear high notes tremolo picked mixed with slow, single note rhythms. The keyboard/synth is layered in lucid tones and brings a whole new dimension of chaos and beauty to the songs. The percussion pulls the two together even moreso, pounding away as if the drums were an ex-lover you got off on punishing.
The one thing that stands apart out of everything is the vocals. Julie Christmas, sole lyricist, is truly one of a kind. Forget the Bjork or PJ Harvey comparisons; this girl has her own seductive style. When she goes through her spoken passages, her tone will trick you into believing she’s innocent as she goes on to narrate morbid streams of consciousness, with an undercurrent of maniacal giggles. Her whispers lure you into her grasp so she can crush you with her blood-curling screams that you can never predict. Her screams sound so tortured it’s as if you want to save her from pain, but the music has binded you to your seat. That’s not to say she can’t sing. Her voice can soar; she has a pretty normal singing range, but her voice has a special tone, especially when she’s trembling.
Every time I think of pushing you down the stairs… I lick my lips
But don’t be upset… it’s the only way I know how to show you that I really care
And I lie to you every chance that I get… and I make it just close enough to the truth
that you go for it every time…
But don’t misunderstand… I leave fingerprints outside you window in the shapes of positive messages!
Following this spoken passage is the repetition of a crushing chord and a high-pitched guitar scream slowly sliding down, while Julie shrieks loud and high, practically ripping her throat apart. Throughout the whole album there’s a progression of this style constructed like a symphony, chock full of your decrescendos, suffocating silence, and aggressive tones. Mixing that with the genuinely creepy vocals, you already have something interesting…and then you get midway through At The Base Of The Giant’s Throat. A 911 call, an officer trying to find an address. Julie is on the other line frantically screeching, “NO, GET AWAY FROM ME, PLEASE STOP, NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO….stop…please? please STOOOOOOOP, LEAVE ME ALOOOOOONEEE, NOOOOOO!!!” continuing to the calm outro of static. The band to this day absolutely refuses to talk about the call. In a simple phrase, it’s f
ucking terrifying.
A band that brings to the table feelings most humans are unable to even bring up in their minds. Listening to this by yourself at night, during a thunderstorm, you see so clearly there are things more horrifying than fear itself. This album may be more disturbing than your girlfriend's infidelity. Music doesn't get much more extreme than this. It's like putting Elend on an IV of vicodin, absinthe, and antidepressants. If I was a doctor, I'd advise you to avoid this…but that’s not the case so I implore you all to buy this and wallow in unbearable horror, schizophrenia, and misery for the rest of your pathetic lives.
