Zeal & Ardor - Stranger Fruit (Review)

Zeal & Ardor – Stranger Fruit

The silence is broken by the steady sound of an axe chopping wood, soon joined by a single guitar and gospel-tinged harmonizing. “We all heard the stories/Bring you to your knees/Ain't no lord gonna help you now,” intones a ragged voice as more guitars and drums join, building to a momentary fury before falling silent again, except for that voice, that single guitar, and that unrelenting axe. So begins Stranger Fruit, the second LP by Zeal & Ardor, the brainchild of Manuel Gagneux, a thunderous blend of slave music and black metal.

And what a fusion it is. The album's title references Nina Simone's savage, sorrowful song about lynchings in the south, and here also we find songs about a people hounded and pursued. People forced onto ships, people murdered and mourning, the fear and tension are thick and palpable. The song “Row Row” speaks of someone losing their name “in salt and stone”, of being taken below, while “Gravedigger's Chant” begins with a burial, with the song's narrator asking for the dead man's shoes to be brought down to the sea shore, possibly the closest they can come to home.

These are not songs of mourning though. Like the introductory track, the looping rhythms of slave hymns give way to reveal a darker, angrier sound just beneath the surface. These are songs of a people turning away from the light of white Christianity, invoking something darker, something that promises vengeance, bought in blood and fire. “Now listen here, you can join us/Or you can die in the fire” says the song “Servants”; “Ship on Fire” begins with its narrator singing “I come in the breath of the dead/Bathing in my papa's blood/Bare-boned and covered in red” and ends with him promising “Nobody waiting on you/You better run son”.

Again: that axe. A steady, rhythmic sound, the sound of hard, thankless work, toiling under the sun. But also implicit in that sound is a threat, as the axe is both tool and weapon, ready to explode into an act of violence at a moment's notice, to be turned against the oppressor without warning. “You Ain't Coming Back” repeats the line, “Don't let anybody tell you that you're safe,” throughout. At first it seems to be spoken to caution a child or a friend, but as the song increases in intensity, the menace lying beneath the surface is revealed. “These are the eyes that saw them die/theses are the hands that dug their graves/don't let anybody tell you that you're safe.”

The introduction ends with a final stark thud, louder and more ominous than the rest. Vengeance is coming.  (Independent)

Support good music and pick up Stranger Fruit.

Phonosonics - Reggae Don't Pay The Rent (Review)

Phonosonics - Reggae Don't Pay The Rent

Jamaican-rooted music, probably more than another music, has a long history of straddling the line between lovers' music that makes you wanna pull a warm body close and fiery political anthems that make you want to punch an oppressor in the mouth. With their latest offering, Reggae Don't Pay The Rent, Victoria's rocksteady champions Phonosonics are paying proper tribute to the beautiful lyrical dichotomy of the musical culture they're helping keep alive and well. The production here is top-notch; all the tracks sound rich, full and warm. It's a clean sound, but it's not slick and shiny. It's an aesthetic that suits each of the five tracks incredibly well and fits the throwback feel of the band and its songs like a glove.

“If He Makes You Laugh” is undoubtedly lover's rock, as frontman Spencer Cleave's rich voice gets to stretch out between highs and lows as he mourns a love just out of reach, supported by a luscious organ line. The gently lilting rocksteady groove of “Feel The Same” is the perfect compliment to the lovey-dovey lyrics. Cleave, who also holds down the songwriting duties, turns his eye outside of his own heart on the title track, “Reggae Don't Pay The Rent” and the hard-hitting “Oil.” It's an interesting pair of political-leaned tracks as the former keeps it close to home, dealing with the struggles of the masses barely getting by, while “Oil,” unsurprisingly, takes on the damaging effects of a world driven by the endless quest for “black gold, Texas tea.” But, keeping in the spirit of the best reggae, the music makes you want to move, both tracks are genuinely fun and both are reminders that music with a message can still be hugely fun. The final track “No Sleep” is bouncy as hell and while Cleave sounds like he's having the best of times singing the song, he's singing about my own personal hell, staying awake to take in the never-ending party of life. Ah, hell yeah life is great but I'm tired. I'll see ya in the morning, I'm going to bed.

Legit though, it may seem odd that I'm writing so glowingly about rocksteady/reggae music coming from the Canadian west coast, but in the city that hosts North America's longest running reggae festival, it makes perfect sense that such glowing reggae music is emanating from the city. If you need those good riddims for these hot summer days – or even better, the slightly cooler but still warm summer evenings – Reggae Don't Pay The Rent has got what you need. Highly recommended listening. (Independent)

Pick up Reggae Don't Pay The Rent on bandcamp.