All My CDs, pt. 97: The Satyrs

The Satyrs - The Satyrs

Like When I Woke, this is yet another album I picked up from the bargain rack on impulse with no idea what it might sound like. Although I’m sure I must have put it on at least once the day I bought it, I have not listened to it at all in the several years since then, so it may as well have been a first-time listening. I must confess, I dragged my heels about writing this review, which is why it’s going up a day late. I have not enjoyed The Satyrs nearly as much as the last few albums I had the pleasure of reviewing.

This album has the cruise control set at 25. It only has one mood: slow, ponderous, and dark. The singing is so slow that following the lyrics is difficult, so it’s easiest just to let them go over your head like a blinking satellite marking its stately progress across the sky. There’s piano and guitars that despite their jangliness somehow manage to sound morose.

I don’t dislike it. It’s just that after the celebratory fullness of the last album I reviewed, and with all the exciting goings on in my life right now, I’m not really in the mood for anything slow or sad that lasts more than a few minutes. And this is forty-two.

Yet after a few generous listenings, I can actually say that it has grown on me. Taken on its own terms it’s rather beautiful, and despite its dark tinge is far from the aggressively depressing strains of popular emo/goth fare. A few songs have a country twang to them, which prompted me to see some parallels with Johnny Cash, an artist I enjoy very much but have not had time to fully explore yet.

I’m happy to move on to the next album on my shelf now, but I shall remember this album for next time I am in the mood for something slower. It’s bound to happen sometime.

Next: Ancient Echoes