Midnight Memories

It’s just noise. That’s the common refrain heard by every child about their music from every parent. You heard it. I heard it … especially when I was listening to Diesel Rhino.

Of course, it goes the other way around, too. The younger generation has a hard time coming to grips with the music of its elders. They don’t understand why their parents and grandparents like what they do as much as they do. I remember taking road trips with my grandparents, and the scariest thing I’d hear was, “Let’s listen to Boxcar Willie one more time.” My soul would scream. I could not understand the appeal of Boxcar Willie. I couldn’t relate to him or his songs. Nor could I relate to my dad’s love of Johnny Mathis, or my mother’s need to play Judy Collins.

On the flip side of that, I’m sure my parents cringed whenever they heard Kiss, Iron Maiden, or later on – Skinny Puppy. How could my parents relate to it? It wasn’t their music, and it wasn’t their memories.

That’s where the power lies. Music moves people for different reasons. It creates different memories in different people. How it connects with you as a child may be different than how it connects with you as an adult, but if that connection was strong enough when it originally was created, it will most likely always stick with you no matter how little you listen to it in your later years. I do not listen to Kiss much these days, but if it comes on Sirius, I’ll crank it up and I’ll have some sort of memory attached to it. The last bit of music I bought was Essence! by Death in June. I do not have early memories attached to that band, but I’m interested in making new ones – a new soundtrack for this point of my life. I don’t just stick with the songs and albums I know. My parents did the same thing. I remember my mother buying the newest Blondie release. I remember my dad getting excited when he got a new Anne Murray eight-track.

The music that sticks, though, is what we’ll never understand between generations. We don’t share the memories and that’s okay. We’ll go on not understanding each other’s music choices and it doesn’t matter. It doesn’t diminish either side in either way. We don’t have to understand each other in this sense because it’s so personal that it could never be fully understood anyway. Just remember that the next time you question your grandparent’s love of Boxcar Willie, though I have a hard time coming to grips with that ever being an acceptable music choice.

Pretty Pig to the Slaughter

Magic?  Anger?  Experimental nonsense?  Nazis on a warpath?  Death in June’s All Pigs Must Die has been called all those things.  No matter what you call it, though, it is amazing.

The story behind the album goes something like this: Douglas Pearce, Death in June’s masked face, had some issues with the business practices of World Serpent Distribution, a company he helped create.  When Pearce finally got fed up, he made this album as a ritualized magic attack to take it down.  Yes, that’s the story, and if you don’t believe it keep in mind that Pearce himself has called the release “a cleaning, an act of revenge and contempt.”  (Take that, Rage Against the Machine.)

Regardless of what one thinks of that tale, the 2001 result is a stunning work of art just shy of 40 minutes in scope.  Part neofolk and part experimental mind destroyer, these 11 songs will have an effect on you … and for some, that effect is far from positive.  There are people cannot stand to listen to the songs because they sound so “wrong” and “evil.”  Others, like myself, have no problem with Pearce’s “We Said Destroy II” and “Ride Out!”  And yes, that is Boyd Rice doing the narration.  (More magic at work.)

Just looking at the cover of All Pigs Must Die lets you know you aren’t in for the usual Death in June release.  A masked Pearce wielding a knife amongst the Three Little Pigs makes for quite an alarming photo.  It looks clandestine.  It looks sinister.  It looks like a warning, and it is a running theme throughout the work.  When you play it … well, that feeling doesn’t go away.

The title song is the first thing you’ll hear on the album.  It’s a calm, though somewhat disturbing tune.  “Tick Tock” is next, and is the first time listeners hear Rice’s voice.  It’s also calm and somewhat uncomfortable.  Song five is where it all starts to change.  “We Said Destroy II,” mentioned earlier, kicks the spell into full gear and takes any previous serenity and extinguishes it.  By the end of the album, senses are left reeling and fans divided.

I know where I stand on this release.  It has been said it is too self-indulgent, and that is true, but that is what makes it so remarkable.  It can’t be anymore self-indulgent actually, but it’s that way for a reason.  It was created with one thing in mind (and it should be noted that World Serpent did go out of business), and that “thing” beats the usual self-indulgence that is really just nonsense masked as soul-cleansing.  Pearce’s agenda here makes this unique in the annals of music history.  He understands that music can be magic (something I believe the old blues performers understood, too) better than any other performer alive today, and that shows here.  Death in June has rarely disappointed me, and this is no exception.


Mandatory FTC Disclaimer: I did not receive this for review.  If you click on a link, you may earn me a commission.

More Death in June

Douglas Pearce, Death In June's main man, has, according to some accounts, straddled the line on what his music meant in order to "win mainstream acceptance."

I could see nothing further from the truth.

In every interview I've read with Pearce, in every bit of music I've listened to, I see nothing that says Death In June or Pearce was ever trying to gain mainstream acceptance.  Pearce is far too smart to want that, and Death In June's music is far too smart to ever obtain that.  In order to gain mainstream acceptance, one must create music that is easily digested and thought about as little as possible.  Anyone familiar with Death In June or Pearce knows this is not something the man or the band is capable of doing in any way, shape or form.

Death in June is thinking man's music.  It is not the radio friendly slop that is spoon-fed and has as little staying power as it has depth.  Pearce has never come across (at least in what I've read) as a man who seeks mainstream acceptance in the way most people come to define it.  Would he be satisified if the world embraced his music and understood it?  I can't think of an artist who wouldn't be.  The fact is, though, most of the music culture is not ready to do so and never will be.  You won't hear "All Pigs Must Die," on the radio, though it is a haunting beautiful song.  (In fact, if you've never heard it, I imagine you already formed an opinion on what this song sounds like.  You'd be wrong.  I once told the title to someone, and when I played it for her, she said, "That can't be the song you are naming.  This is incredible.")

Mainstream acceptance is best left to American Idol winners and almost-was types.  It's best left to the bubble gum smears and the party anthems that encapsulate mindless summer fun.  Death in June, even at its most mainstream (as if there were such a thing), can't compete with that kind of sugar.  It is, despite some people's beliefs, music meant to weed out the unthinking masses.  It says "stay away" in no uncertain terms.  To believe otherwise is not only an insult, but a total misunderstanding of the music.  Listen to this and tell me different.

Little Blue Butterfly

Some things are just purely pefect.  Some are borderline perfect.  Some are sublime.  Death in June's "Little Blue Butterfly" is sublime.  I hear the collective gasps now.  "Death in June!  No!"

Relax.  Douglas Pearce may be the scariest homosexual you know, and his band may inspire protests and terror worldwide, but "Little Blue Butterfly" is beautiful. 

Death in June, as many of probably know, is the neofolk band.  This song is what will win over those who don't let themselves be held back by some controversy. 

Earlier this week I posted the song on my Facebook page.  As to be expected, it warranted little comment except from the person I knew would get it.  I'm not even sure anyone else listened to it, either because they have grown scared of the music I put up (Whitehouse bothered a lot of people), or they just couldn't be bothered.  I doubt too many of them know about the band, either.  If you can let go of the preconceived notions, put aside the fears and just listen you will be treated to something haunting and moving. 

A friend of mine once described Death in June as the "most evil music" he had ever heard.  It "scared" him.  I think that is understandable, actually.  It is powerful music.  It strikes to the core.  It makes you uncomfortable.  Sometimes art isn't safe.  Sometimes it shouldn't be.  There's plenty of entertainment to serve that purpose.  Plenty of lifeless music.  Plenty of music you can bob your head to and not think.  And there is really nothing wrong with that, really.  Nor is there anything wrong with music that moves you.  Love it.  Loathe it.  At least it has pulled forth a reaction other than, "That was nice." 

Is this impure?  No.  Far from it.  So very far from it.