Expect nothing but expect everything.
The first thing that I find people wondering about any album or band is, normally, the genre of said album or band. Some people will tell you that that’s a bad habit, and it closes off what you could be listening to… But to me that’s a good thing. When you recognize something it’s in a good little pre conceived notion. This gives a bit of an expectation and familiarizes the listener to that subject, making the listening experience comfortable. If the genre was emo, then you could probably expect some crying and some nice easy listening. If the genre was bebop, you could chill out and act like a total coffee shop hipster. However if you were to ask me what genre A Promise is I’d have to stumble around a bit. Not only does Xiu Xiu happen to incorporate many genre’s unique quirks into their music, but they also go beyond any real genre. That might be uncomfortable and frightening for someone starting off with A Promise. Yet that is one of the album’s many talents, making an uncomfortable draining atmosphere that has you questioning constantly what kind of move they’re going to make next. Instead of telling you what genre Xiu Xiu is, I’ll just tell you to listen to it for yourself and make your own judgements.
That isn’t to say that A Promise is totally unwarranted and experimental. You can listen to a lot of dance music and noise and lots of post-punk, maybe glitch and synthpop, and you wouldn’t find anything terribly out there on A Promise. A Promise is, however, an album that keeps you guessing. The structures of these songs are uncertain, and Xiu Xiu uses this to their advantage. They know that the listener is second guessing their work, and attack at the moments you least expect it. Xiu Xiu doesn’t really build up like any post-rock or pop-punk outfit but instead leaves the building to the listener, while the song itself runs on two extremes. They give room to think and to worry over their songs. The narrative of a lot of these tracks isn’t just a jog in a ritzy suburb, but instead it’s like walking down a very foggy street, somewhere secluded, at 2 in the morning. You can’t see it but you know damn well that something is watching you, ready to strike.
J.S, when you tell me everything…
Jamie Stewart as a lyricist, and a singer, is strange. He’s timid, submissive, and takes the world against himself and asks for nothing. His music seems internalized, tired and bottled, Particularly in the track Apistat Commander. Interestingly, this track, which could be considered the loudest, shows a sense of emotional release without the spike of shock, or the prick of concern which prods, encompassing most tracks on A Promise. The approach is similar but different. There’s a glitchy noise aspect in the first 20 seconds of the song but otherwise that can just be seen as remnants from the previous track. It eases in with details of the environment around Jamie Stewart, he puts himself into the song and inside him a static rage and sadness stir, which releases in a chaotic but formed release of noise. He screams: “All this relief, it’s the hardest thing”, and instead of asking “why god”, he simply acknowledges him: “Oh my god Oh my god Oh my god”. Whether it be as an alternative to profanity or not is uncertain, whatever it is, it’s a beautiful release.
There are other tracks where Xiu Xiu comes off as very disturbed. Examples include, Walnut house, Ian Curtis Wishlist, and Sad Pony Guerilla Girl. The music in these tracks is often sexually charged, particularly in the unseen tragedy of sex; confusion of love and sex, The strangeness of BDSM or any subject related, has no boundary to Jamie Stewart. In Sad Pony Guerilla Girl, a woman is put into a relationship with a man who only wants her body, The man is not only abusive but is cheating on his wife with a vulnerable young woman. He beats her when she starts to feel love for this man, feeling like she has to tell the whole block. Even after she’s beaten, she continues to be with the man. In Walnut House, A man or woman is involved with a leather daddy, who fulfills his/her submissive pain fulfilling wishes. He hurts them, and they call him a sweetheart. The person is, at the end of the track bombarded by a strange noise that attacks at the viewer and at the man/woman in the song. For some reason, they call out to their mom, “Don’t worry mom” is repeated on end by the singer, after this quick session of noise the song stops. It leaves behind questions that can be answered by the listener. The question may lack depth to some people but it’s enough for the listener to think a bit.
Verdict
A Promise is laden with strange instrumental passages and more so, sad and tragic lyrics. The songs aren’t exactly held in careful manners, but the people behind the songs know what they’re doing, and they deliver on what is overall a great record. The subject matter is thought provoking and it’s smart, Same with the instrumentation, which is horrifically violent without being a certain kind of cheesy industrial. Jamie Stewart breathes into the style of music perfectly with his voice, and the way some of these songs fit into everything, it can give you great music highs… Not the kind you’d get from any old melodic or harmonious song however… 9/10