black midi -- Cavalcade: Review

Black Midi -- Cavalcade

[Rough Trade]

A typical black midi show looks something like this. The stage is minimal, maybe even bare. Besides a couple of amps and some equipment, it’s a blank canvas. On the far right side of the stage, we see a shirtless young man sporting nothing but Ray Bans and cargo shorts and sweating profusely, beating the absolute dickens out of a drum set with two firearms coming out each side of his torso you would be understating to call ‘arms’. On the other side of the stage we see a twenty-something with the appearance of a fifteen year old who just got pulled out of Algebra 2 with an analog synth right to his right and a Rickenbacker bass across his chest that he is vigorously striking so hard, it looks like he’s trying to break it. And in between these two we see the frontman, dressed in what can only be described as “80s rom-com male lead attire”--middle part hair, trenchcoat, Italian shoes--punishing the strings on his guitar and babbling inflamed nonsense into the microphone for a sweaty moshing audience that is absolutely loving it.

From just the broad critical acclaim to the band’s eager fanbase, London’s black midi undeniably stands to be one of the most exciting and intriguing acts in rock music today. The band’s 2019 debut record Schlagenheim was a thrilling epic mix of math rock virtuoso, blood-curdling morbidity, and young unbridled creativity packed into an airtight forty minutes. Each song on the record sounded both like something and nothing we had ever heard before, melding influences across like pop, punk, rock, and r&b to make something brand new. From the freaky no wave vocals freakouts of frontman Geordie Greep, to the breath-taking mastery of drummer Morgan Simpson, to the electric chemistry allowing the band to turn on a dime, the debut’s rich tracklist shook the experimental rock scene like no other album in years.

But that was the last album, and since then the band has gone through some changes in their career that would affect their next release. Firstly, guitarist Matt Kwasniewski-Kelvin left on indefinite hiatus on January 15, 2021 for mental health reasons, reducing the band members from 4 to 3 on this next album. Secondly, the band had seen a massive spike in popularity following the debut, with international tours, name-breaking feature pieces, and appearances at festivals like Pitchfork in 2019 (which I was blessed enough to witness). And thirdly, the band just got bored with their sound. In various interviews, the members talk about wanting to go outside of the box with the next album. Greep told the NYTimes in an interview: “I think it’s better to go crazy, full crazy, and fail, than just do something you know you can do.”

Like its cover would imply, Cavalcade is complex, distorted, and colorful. The album’s sound comes from a basket case of influences, from experimental pioneers like Miles Davis and Can to pop legends like Amy Winehouse and Marvin Gaye and new age rockers like the Mars Volta. Like its eclectic mix of influences, the album is all over the place, and each song explores a different side of the band’s budding sound. But while the album’s sounds are all over the place, the overarching themes of decline and death haunt each track, attaching the tracks together into a holistic work.

The album kicks off with the head-splitting “John L,” a skittering avant-prog banger that leads with an oppressive, pummeling rhythm beating on your chest like an alarm. And without indulging into hyperbole, this song is one of the wildest things I’ve heard all year. The song marries piercing guitar and saxophone leads over a punky snare march like the fanfare of some terrifying neo-fascist parade. The verses feature imperative vocals from frontman Greep and cuts between these gut-wrenching moments of silence that make my stomach churn. Greep’s vocal style matches the lyrics which paint the tale of a nationalistic cult leader drawing in followers with reactionary politics, only to be swallowed up in the second half of the song by the climate of violence he created himself. The proggy interlude is so sinister and indulgent with its violent time changes and instrumental freakouts, it feels like a modern incarnation of a “21st Century Schizoid Man.” With this opener, black midi wants you to know from the get-go that this album’s gonna be crazy.

The following track “Marlene Dietrich” is a complete tonal change from the preceding song, running with this calm and assuring jazz pop beat, matching the tone of titular 1920s German superstar the song is named after. The warm orchestral instrumentation helps build the image of singer Dietrich taking to the stage performing the best she can only to receive no applause from a tough audience. Conversely to Greep’s performance on the last track, his vocals here are operatic, exuding the belting elegance of the 20s jazz style to song calls back to. And the instrumental is warm and comforting, like something that wouldn’t sound out of place in an artisan coffee bar.

But the mood shifts back into punky territory with “Chondromalacia Patella,” a two-faced post-rocker that centers around these rhythmic motifs most reminiscent of the songwriting style on their first record. But unlike the jam-centric attitude of the first record, Cavalcade’s songs are much more deliberate, and the structures are more refined, showing the band’s greater focus on the experience as opposed to how it feels to them as performers. And this song is no exception. After the infectious intro, “Chondro” begins this 3-minute long incline of peaks in valleys teasing between jazzy delicacy and blunt trauma like a wrecking ball swinging back and forth on its chain. The song climaxes into this high octane post-punk outro that builds and builds and builds… only to resolve with the slide whistle-like synth that feels like the band laughing in your face for staying this long.

“Slow” is not titled for its tone, but for its lyrics, which certainly stand out as the darkest on the record, tackling the unbearable pain of waiting until death. Uh….yeah, this one’s a tough one. And its structure mirrors changing attitudes of what it's like experiencing this pain: stomach-churning ennui to violent anger at having to keep breathing. This song is one of two on the record that features the vocals of Cameron Picton, whose boyish, deadpan delivery sounds like a kid so steeped in depression that he can’t even muster the energy to do anything more than whisper. The instrumentation is dynamic and expertly builds up to the climax which brings back the main riff in full swing, pummeling on your head like your skull is closing in on you. Certainly one of the most powerful tracks here.

The second half of the album starts with “Diamond Stuff,” and here we see a musical shift on the kind of aspects that black midi has been accentuating on Cavalcade. While the first half of songs mainly focused on ground-shaking rhythms, the second half centers its songs more around its harmonies, firstly on “Diamond Stuff” which is a lengthy cavernous build-up of isolated guitars into the most beautiful crescendo black midi has ever made. The tenuous guitar notes linger like twinkles in a dark cave as Picton’s lamenting vocals guide it into the second half, where Simpson’s dense drum fills and warm strings instill an air of starry-eyed awe into the listener. The whirring instrumentation feels like gusts of winds that send chills of wonder down your spine.

It’s at this point that I can’t go any further without mentioning Cavalcade’s hidden hero Kaidi Akinnibi whose contributions on tenor saxophone elevate Black Midi to full-fledged jazz fusion mastery. “Dethroned” opens with Akinnibi’s warm saxophone lines which until this point, have mostly been claustrophobic freakouts, but here he exudes the tenderness and focus of a spiritual jazz auteur. This song tells the tale of a fall from grace and the victim’s struggles with accepting defeat. The song is a steady incline into this thrilling climax where Simpson’s breakbeat rhythm and Picton’s confrontational bassline make way for Akinnibi’s soaring sax lines and Greep’s overdriven guitar which shoots over the mix like a beam of light through the sky. This song’s a thrill, and certainly will be one of the best to see live.

Black midi is the kind of band that can’t go through a set without reminding you that they care, but not, like, too much. And that effort to keep things fun and not too pretentious manifests on Cavalcade in “Hogwash and Balderdash” which in British vernacular literally means “nonsense and nonsense.” The beat is urgent but silly with an unruly beat and this indecisive guitar line that sounds like jazz punk for clowns (and not the Oingo Boingo kind). Between its wild synth static, cartoony bridge melodies, and Greep’s tongue-and-cheek anecdote about two convicts in escape from the law, this song is all over the place. Yet, it works. It’s obtuse and horrid at times, but with relistens I’ve warmed up to its silly attitude and the band’s full-send commitment to make a nonsense track.

“Ascending Forth” is the epic closer to Cavalcade and might as well be its thesis statement. The song lasts ten minutes and is populated with rich harmonies between organs, horns, keys, guitars, and a string section. The song shifts through several cycles of tension and release to tell a story about a man who is condemned for creating art outside of social norms. The song is named after the ascending-fourth, a harmonic interval popularly used in many pop chord progressions and the song’s main character Markus spends his days writing kitschy material recycling this same idea over and over. The song nails this concept so hard by putting it’s verses in progressive jazz progressions while its lulling chorus is, in fact, in ascending fourths! As the song goes on, Markus is put to trial for writing music progressing out of the boundaries, artistically “ascending forth,” if you will. The matching mood of the instrumentation is cinematic, and climaxes at the final moments of the song to bookend the album in a wonderfully grand fashion.

Cavalcade is a tough record. And within the current boundaries of what we all “rock music,” it’s an odd fit. There aren’t really any four-on-the-floor grooves here. There are no pop harmonies. There are no foot-stomping arena choruses. But like any great rock album, it pushes what we consider “rock music” to its limits. It takes what was there, strips it to its bare essentials, and sees how far you can change it. These most basic concepts of rock music--guitar licks, kick-and-snares, tension and release--are both what drive this record and also what grounds it in a long lineage of boundary-pushing rock musicians who tried what they did just like black midi did here.

I’m sure that if black midi heard me say my Cavalcade schtick about “boundary pushing” and “pushing it to its limits,” they’d laugh to themselves and nervously push it off, telling me that they’re just having good fun making their own music. But I like to think that striving for your own unique sound as a musician is the most important factor that makes a rock album groundbreaking. Greatness in rock music is finding your own sound and fully committing, no matter who might condemn you. Building your own style and doing it to the max. You might have just had records and artists pop into your mind when I mentioned “greatness” because I did too. And I fully mean it that when I hear Cavalcade, I’m certain black midi belongs in that lineage.

When Markus was ascending forth in the final track, it was never mentioned what exactly he did to push the boundaries. I don’t think it's because it’s supposed to be some kind of abstract symbol or you’re supposed to imagine what it is he does, but I think it’s supposed to be something we can’t imagine. In the past, ascending forth happened when Jimi Hendrix set his guitar on fire in 1967, or when David Byrne decided to write lyrics in 1980 by picking them out of a fishbowl. Nobody conceived of what they could’ve done to push the needle, until long after they did it. “Ascending forth” looks different every time, and none of us will be ready for what it’s gonna look like in the future. I’m not certain of what it’ll look like, who’ll do it, or when it’ll happen. But I know this time, “ascending forth” means incessantly babbling, clownish guitar riffs, and silence so tense you could cut it with a knife.

9.8/10.

Listen To: “John L”, “Slow”, “Dethroned”, “Chondromalacia Patella”

RIYL: Black Country, New Road, Squid, Idles, shame