Godspeed You Black Emperor
Lift Yr. Skinny Fists Like Antennas to Heavens
Kranky, 2000
Majesty: 8/10
Over-the-topness: 10/10
Hey, it works. Overall: 9/10
Listening to this album, five years ago in my car, driving through mobs of traffic in downtown Cleveland, I actually thought it might be the end of the world. GYBE evoke the rawest emotion that I could've felt. Their music is drenched in death; swelling guitars and drums that sound like so much steel and concrete bending and burning.
Living now in New York City, I feel much closer—not just physically, but mentally as well—to the end of the world. Listening to this album again today, on my way to work, the subway train stopped, and I sat in a tunnel beneath the East River for almost 15 minutes. It started to come back to me, and my stomach began to grow heavy and sick. There is no real reason for fear, though, just a reason to mourn. The elegy that is Lift Your Fists rings some sort of human truth about life, death and pain. It's the only way I can deal with so much grief.
Crazy Canadians and their liberal guitar and drum meanderings... what does it all mean? I guess, just rock out like you mean it and try not to get hit by any airplanes.
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