Anna von Hausswolff, Southern Lord, 2022
The first two tracks are strong, but it’s not until “The Mysterious Vanishing of Electra” that the album really hits its stride. Upon first listen, the ear is drawn to the invitingly evil vocal performance captured in this recording; however, it is the soul-crushing organ refrain that becomes the highlight of this track on subsequent listens. It comes after a moment of silence, when perhaps the uninitiated in the crowd thought the song might be over, only to hear it rear its head once more.
The track is followed by the behemoth “Ugly and Vengeful,” which ebbs and flows, as von Hausswolff’s unique arrangements often do, through its nineteen-minute duration. It’s here that the work of guitarists Karl Vento and Joel Fabiansson shine through in the mix. Utilizing monotone droning and chugging riffs borrowed from doom metal, the guitars form the underbelly of the song for the first fifteen minutes before subtly blossoming into expressive, melodic soloing that provides the climax to this song.
If it seems like the album is being described with words that apply to some great and terrible creature ripped from the pages of a fantasy epic, it’s because that’s the imagery it evokes in the mind of the listener. This album is a monster. One that lumbers slowly.
The monster prepares for sleep with the track “Come Wander with Me / Deliverance,” the set’s one departure from Dead Magic material. Here, the band are at their most unhinged. This song puts the chemistry of the band on full display, as the song is enhanced by its ability to “breathe” and be molded by the feel of the musicians in real time. In the last moments of the album, von Hausswolff punctuates the set with a simple “Thank you so much,” and the band leaves the stage at the climax of the set, the way it should be. I listen to this performance, and I sincerely wonder how Nick Cave went on after. A woman who notoriously buried the mighty Swans as an opener surely stands as a terrifying act to follow.
This album can’t be called a “fun album.” There’s a reason it was released in January. It’s the kind of record that you put on at a party when you want everyone to leave. But there’s a beauty in that. It begs to be listened to on headphones in the dark when the rest of the world is asleep. It’s a rare instance of a live album that is an essential release for the artist, and not a record company ploy to trick the consumer into buying something they already have. It’s Anna von Hausswolff at the height of her power, captured like lightning in a bottle on the banks of Lake Geneva on an unassuming summer evening.
Sonic Explorer 