This Will Destroy You
Since 2004, This Will Destroy You has been forging some of the world's most brutal, dynamic, and precariously visceral instrumental rock. In addition to a vigorous tour schedule, their celebrated discography and critically renowned soundtrack work for feature films and documentaries have earned them a sizable and fervent international following. Another Language, TWDY's fourth full length LP, marks their euphonious return from a prolonged vacuous dark period that threatened to break both the band and the members themselves. Rather than be stifled by their experience TWDY were atomized and subsequently made anew, emerging with a revived energy and reinforced sense of solidarity. As a result, Another Language captures the band at its most potent, honed, and utterly powerful form yet, displaying an edified unity and graduated sense of song-writing, tonal complexity, and studio prowess.
TWDY's new found clarity of vision would come after a state of near dissolution that ensued after the massive success of their 2006 debut Young Mountain and 2008's eponymous follow up. Personal struggles, growing pains, the loss of band members, and a series of close, untimely tragedies set the tone for what would be the band's darkest and most introspective album yet, 2011's Tunnel Blanket. The following two years stress tested the band to the point of ruin; consecutive continent-hopping tours as well as the pressures of matching their previous two albums' accomplishments took a nearly unbearable toll. TWDY's spirits were lifted when both independent filmmakers and Hollywood began to eye their discography for prominent placement in several critically acclaimed films, including the Oscar-winning Moneyball. The arrival of 2013's Live in Reykjavik triple LP was warmly received by fans and critics alike, further rejuvenating the band after years of relentless, grinding tours. In October of 2013 TWDY returned to Elmwood Recording, once again working with engineer John Congleton, fully prepared to construct their next work from the inside out.
From the opening moments of Another Language it is clear that the band has achieved its aim. The reflective opening dialogue of guitar, choral-like organ, and shimmering Rhodes on New Topia float over nuanced warbling swells of tape before being completely disintegrated by a shock wave of blistering guitars, bass, and locomotive poly-rhythms. These peaks and valleys of emotive dynamism are expertly guided by the dexterous drum work of Alex Bhore, who offers up droves of ghost-notes and compounded cadences that energize the album with a fully realized freedom of movement. The band's frequency spectrum now extends to new heights via adornments of tubular bells, microcassette manipulations, and washes of tuned feedback by guitarists Christopher King and Jeremy Galindo while bassist Donovan Jones ensures that the band's roots dig deep into the netherworld of sub-frequencies. An earthy realism can be heard throughout Another Language's nine tracks, as if all of its sound sources have been so heavily disguised under layers signal manipulation that their original form is weathered beyond recognition. Composition duties were shared equally more than ever, offering TWDY an opportunity to delve deeper into the writing process with an unprecedented level of cohesion.
Forced to redefine themselves as individuals, artists, and as a unit, TWDY's Another Language exudes a corporeal sense of the formidable journey, which was overcome in order to arrive at their newly galvanized state of confidence and artistry.
This Will Destroy You is Jeremy Galindo, Christopher King, Donovan Jones, and Alex Bhore. "Another Language" recorded by John Congleton, Alex Bhore, and Christopher King. Mixed by John Congleton except "The Puritain" mixed by Christopher King and Jeremy Galindo. Mastered by Alan Douches. Strings by Jonathan Slade. Art by Land.
The debut LP from Glassing, aptly titled Light and Death, is a feat of beautifully crushing
juxtaposition. The Austin, TX based trio of guitarist Cory Brim, drummer Jason Camacho
(Lechuguillas), and singer & bassist Dustin Coffman (Feuding Fathers, Boyfrndz) effortlessly
walks a razor’s edge between innumerable pairs of opposites on their inaugural full-length,
revealing a cohesion well beyond their years. With roots in both metal and hardcore, as well as
a collective appreciation for texture, tonal complexity, and asymmetric song structure, Glassing
coalesce into an utterly ruinous, and totally unpredictable force across Light and Death’s
duration. What is in one moment rising ambient tension or an intelligible 4/4 time-signature is,
in the blink of an eye, replaced by successive shockwaves of full-on destructive catharsis.
Light and Death progresses through its blistering trajectory with the only constant being
change and the only reasonable expectation being the unexpected; clarity oscillates organically
with immutable sludge as does order with disorder, all to arrest the listener in an addictive,
aurally induced Stockholm syndrome.
True to form, Light and Death is replete with Glassing’s penchant for compositional
misdirection. Any serenity or sense of safety that was established within the inceptive seconds
of the album’s opener LIfewrecker are hastily, and entirely, obliterated; foreshadowing the
perpetual initiations-by-fire that are to come. Owing much to Coffman’s insistence on neither
the band nor the listener “ever being allowed to be comfortable”, their consensual commitment
to mercurial shifts in tempo and tone are disturbingly affective. Accidental chord resolution,
self-proclaimed “1/1” timing-counts, and an affinity for risk-taking all play significant roles in
the band’s collective, generative writing process. Narrated by Coffman’s demonic vociferations,
Brim’s primary focus on palpably angular textures, blasted through two full-stacks at all the
bands live shows as well as throughout this recording, locks-in with Camacho’s impossibly
adaptive kit-dexterity so seamlessly that one would think the three individuals to be a single
organism; respective cells making up a greater monster’s body.
Were melancholy allowed to instantly turn into anger as well as made bombastic and
deafening, Glassing’s Light and Death would be much easier to describe. Instead what we
have is an experiential journey into the abyss, lead with such precision and cogency that one is
left with the feeling that this, despite being their debut LP, is not Glassing’s first plunge into
- Jonathan Slade