Album Review: Snakepiss- Arson
So back in January, a rep from the Detroit label Chambray
hit me up on Twitter and asked if I’d take a gander at the debut release from someone named Snakepiss. I was like, “Fuck yeah I will. This guy’s name is
Snakepiss. How badass is that?”
And much like the lady in the “1-800-Ask-Gary” radio
commercial—I’m so thankful that I did.
Snakepiss’s debut, Toil,
was murky, menacing, and claustrophobic—built around broken down electronics,
reportedly made by a broken down, working class fellow from a broken down city
(Detroit.) Snakey’s follow up, Arson,
is not much sunnier sounding, though it is a much larger, more focused affair,
arriving a year after its predecessor.
The gawds at Chambray hit me up via Twitter earlier in the
fall to let me know about Arson, and
were kind enough to send me the album with a press kit, so I’ve been sitting
with this record for a while, letting it wash over me at various times in
various places.
On Arson, there is
A LOT going on—right from the get go, even, on the opening track “Blaze.”
You’re just thrown right into the cacophony, and it doesn’t let up for three
songs. Seguing right into the effort’s first single, “Set Fire to The Living,”
which then descends into “Our Love,” Snakepiss is going for an unrelenting vibe
on Arson, and it works.
The last time I was in Detroit was almost four years ago,
and I was only in the airport, stuck there in a layover, where my wife and I
ate sub par food at a restaurant and then went to the Motown store. I know the
city as a whole has seen better days, and from where the darkness on a record
like Arson is coming from, I imagine
it to be the burned out shell of Detroit that is depicted in Only Lovers Left Alive.
In my original review of Toil,
I opened with the very self-aware phrase, “America, you final have your
Burial.” And really, it’s not that
far off of a comparison. Certainly Burial has come a long way from the
“anonymous dubstep guy” he debuted as in 2006. He’s gone from making short
tracks that London teens in hooded sweatshirts can juke to, to making 15+
minute pieces with various movements. Snakepiss’ material is rhythmic enough to
nod your head or move your shoulders around to, but it’s also unsettling enough
that you aren’t sure if you are supposed to or not. A bulk of the first half
features disembodied voices swirling in and out, or in some cases, they make up
the entire song—like the incredibly short, jaunty “Frig.”
It’s the sheer depth and complexity of these songs that
makes them all compelling to listen to. Much like on Toil, Snakepiss piles on the layers on every track, combining
elements you would think, at first, may not go together at all, or may just be
entirely too much for one song. You’d be wrong in both cases. In the case of
“King,” the spiraling dissonance that eventually overwhelms the end of the
track, only adds to how impressive and well planned these pieces are.
Arson shows an
admirable amount of growth over the last year—it’s not a huge sonic leap when
compared to Toil, but shows that
Snakepiss, as a performer, continues to be forward thinking, looking to
incorporate pretty much anything and everything he can into his material, with
results that are guaranteed to be captivating and original.
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