ALBUM REVIEW: Epitaph – God Is An Astronaut
Having charted their own unique course through the world of post-rock, Irish trio GOD IS AN ASTRONAUT have brought listeners their eighth studio album Epitaph. Not only a fantastic retrospective on their career so far, it captures the weight and gravitas of its namesake with the kind of dramatic flair fans have come to expect.
The title track, and album opener, is aptly one of the moodiest songs in their discography. An epitaph, for those unaware, adorns a gravestone and sums up the life of the deceased. Some are amusing, such as that of Margorie McCall: “Lived Once, Buried Twice.” Most are simpler, simply wishing the deceased well in whatever afterlife they believe they will enjoy. These are the ones that speak closer to the tragedy of losing a loved one: “Beloved Father”, “Wonderful Mother” – they say so little and yet express so much grief we cannot help but be moved. That composed by GOD IS AN ASTRONAUT captures this succinctly in its moody atmosphere and gloomy melody, which evoke the emotional gravitas as befitting all epitaphs. The song itself builds from gentle, quiet piano motifs threaded with dramatic synths courtesy of Torsten Kinsella into a dramatic interplay between his guitars and Lloyd Hanney’s drums at the 3:40 minute mark. All of this serves to make a song that truly encapsulates the essence of the emotional moment at the graveside, looking at the inscription on the grave of a loved one.
The evocation of emotions serves to set the tone for the album as a whole. Not all of it is gloomy, however: Komorebi takes its name from the Japanese word for ‘crepuscular rays’, those rays of sunshine bursting through clouds. Specifically, the Japanese use it in the context of sunlight rippling through the leaves of trees in the forest, and the song deftly evokes the image of wandering (and, perhaps, wondering) through a forest bathed in golden sunlight. It has a much lighter, more joyful melody than most of the other songs on the album, and like most such pleasant experiences is over far too soon. Album closer Oisín is the shortest song, but in its delicate piano motifs captures the grief and pain of losing a loved one: it is dedicated to the young cousin of Torsten and Niels Kinsella (bass) who died recently aged seven.
It is to Oisín that the whole album is dedicated, and the grief of his loss is what fuels the album as whole. There is an argument to be made that the album takes as its core narrative the whole process of grieving, moving from the lowest depths at the graveside through quiet contemplations and out into sunlight: from Epitaph through Winter Dusk/Awakening and into Komorebi.
Taking a step back from the emotions of the art on display, the signature blend of melodies constructed of guitars and synth layered carefully together is clearly inspired by artists like GODSPEED YOU! BLACK EMPEROR, 65DAYSOFSTATIC and MOGWAI. However, GOD IS AN ASTRONAUT have always been able to distil what makes their contemporaries tick and make it into something entirely their own. Both as a mood and a song, Epitaph calls to mind I Love You, I’m Going To Blow Up Your School from MOGWAI’s seminal work The Hawk Is Howling in its gloomy atmosphere and dramatic guitar-work. Both artists hit their target moods, but GOD IS AN ASTRONAUT capture the real gravitas of the situation better than MOGWAI manage.
Even within GOD IS AN ASTRONAUT‘s own discography, Epitaph stands out as perhaps the least lively album. This is not to suggest it’s boring, or that it plods along, but compare the opening track of Epitaph to, say Agneya from its immediate predecessor or Shadows from their 2008 self-titled album. The pacing is much slower on Epitaph than on its predecessors, which really allows for the songs to evoke the emotions and moods they intend to demonstrate. Komorebi conveys the image of sunlight through the trees, and Winter Dusk/Awakening calls to mind not only a wintry dusk, but also the imagery of Robert Frost’s famous poem Stopping By Woods On a Snowy Evening. Poetry aside, these emotions and moods are what give the album its life: they not only capture the essence of their titular subject, but in so doing bring out a real vitality which, although never absent from previous records, has definitely been truly found on this album. So, for all that its pacing is slower and more delicately realised than its predecessors, Epitaph lays a solid claim to being the most emotionally dramatic album in the band’s discography.
2018 isn’t quite through its first quarter, but GOD IS AN ASTRONAUT have made a definitive contender for the album of the year in Epitaph. Full of both enormous emotional gravitas, but also of profoundly beautiful imagery, it is a truly exceptional post-rock album.
Rating: 9/10
Epitaph is set for release on April 27th via Napalm Records.
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