Black Swans – Occasion for Song
(4.5/5)
Death may be the most difficult topic to honestly,
straightforwardly address in popular music.
The topic is so imposing that it is nearly impossible to fully explore
the one constant of human existence within a three or four minute song. Luckily for Black Swans, they tackle the subject
of death not through a single song, but over the course of a nearly hour long
album. The single loss that hovers over
the album happens to be that of Noel Sayre, the band’s violinist who died
suddenly in a swimming pool. The front
cover pictures the stark, imposing image of a diving board. And absence is at the heart of the album,
since much of the music and lyrics are less about death itself than with coming
to grips with loss.
“Portsmouth,
Ohio” is the only song that
directly grapples with Sayre’s death, and it serves as a sort of emotional and
thematic centerpiece. Black Swans tackle
the subject with a hushed understatement, preferring to let the real life
narrative speak for itself without a forced emotional push. The song’s refrain, “Nobody’s supposed to die
three days before the Fourth of July,” is delivered matter of fact like. Within that phrase is imbedded the unthinkable
nature of death—that, try as we might, we can never truly wrap our heads around
the idea of not existing. It also emphasizes
the devastating abruptness of such an accident, a reminder that no one is guaranteed
the supposedly requisite 75 years.
The rest of the album approaches death obliquely. Even when the subject matter seems to deal
with our past, because of the shadow Sayre’s death casts across the album, each
song seems to fashioning a cartographic image of mortality. When singer, Jerry Decicca, tells us, “I give
one hundred dollar bills to homeless men, so they can get fucked up right,” I
can’t help but think that he’s giving us a perverse reinterpretation of carpe
diem. In “Work Song” Decicca ruminates on
the tension between material necessities and spiritual fulfillment, singing “Watch
the seahawk dive, it needs food just like you and I to survive.” For some of his best lyrics, he relies on
concrete imagery rather than abstraction in order to cut to the pith of his
meaning.
Each song sounds both lush and ramshackle, like an intricate
bird’s nest thatched together by twigs and mud.
Decicca’s singing is similarly rugged, falling somewhere between Leonard
Cohen and Bob Dylan’s speak-sing. But
the most interesting aspect of their music is what’s missing. Instead of trying to replicate Sayre’s
violin, Black Swans instead chose to do without the instrument, possibly
deciding that some things are just irreplaceable.
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