Death Valley Girls‘ third album has an interesting title – Darkness Rains. It’s not “Darkness Reigns,” as you might think if someone told you the name of the album. After all, DVG are known to be explorers of oddities, the unexplained, and things the prowl in shadows, but they chose “Rains” instead. Does it convey an image of environmental disaster, a heavy thunderstorm overpowering a bright summer sky, or impending death?
My guess is on the last one, as the album starts with the hard-hitting “More Dead” and flows right into the heavy fuzz of “(One Less Thing) Before I Die.” The latter reminds me that I need to keep de-cluttering my house and the trend of “Swedish death cleaning” that grows more popular each year. Why burden ourselves and our descendants with our crap? Why live a life unfulfilled? If you’ve seen DVG live or had the pleasure of meeting them, you’d know they were living in a way that would produce no regrets. They encourage us to do the same before darkness rains upon us, like we know it will but try to forget that it will.
“Disaster (Is What We’re After)” is great Stooges-style skronk meant to shake things up wherever you are, and “Unzip Your Forehead” is 60’s horror-psychedelia that makes me imagine Frankenstein’s monster opening the stitches on his square head and literally opening his mind. “Wear Black” could be the dress code for a DVG show. It also has these cool organ chords throughout it that make it hypnotizing (as does Larry Schemel‘s echoing guitar work).
“Abre Camino” is one of DVG’s biggest hits, and often the opener for their live sets. Each listen seems to unveil more layers you hadn’t heard before then, much like finding a book with strange scribbles and arcane symbols that reveal power messages to you after falling asleep. Laura Harris‘ drums hit hard on “Born Again and Again,” driving you to a near panic at one point. “Street Justice” is almost a punk rager with some of Bonnie Bloomgarden‘s most frantic vocals.
“Occupation: Ghost Writer” makes me want to write at least a short story based on the title. It has a dreamy quality to it, like a spirit floating around you while writing a blog post. “We’ll be together, somewhere forever,” they sing on “TV in Jail on Mars” – another song title that deserves an entire short story. The vocals repeat and echo like a trippy mantra or a broadcast from the red planet sent by things living deep within the canals there. It’s the sound of darkness raining down in a slow shower rather than a pounding torrent.
Darkness rains all over this record, but there are moments of sunlight that peek through the clouds to remind us that what lies beyond the veil is something we can’t comprehend, but shouldn’t fear.
Keep your mind open.
[I’ll feel more dead if you don’t subscribe.]