If the group’s colorfully abstract last two album titles weren’t enough of a hint (Indigo Meadow, Phosphene Dream), The Black Angels are a psychedelic rock band, with a charmingly gothic sense of disarray and disorder created by lead singer Alex Maas’ otherworldly croon and more minor keys than you can shake a stick at.
On its newest record, Indigo Meadow, these basic pillars still stand, but the group now feels a little less Black Angels and a little more Black Keys – Meadow is without a doubt the band’s boldest and most accessible record to date. It’s also the group’s best, showing a clear and firm progression over the past three years.
The group’s last record, Phosphene Dream, showed The Black Angels tightening its sound, and abstaining from the quarter-of-an-hour jams that had been present on prior releases. Ultimately, though, the record almost felt a bit alienated from itself, with flat production and lyrics that were abstractions more than firm, tangible statements.
From the moment Indigo Meadow starts, it’s clear that The Black Angels want to draw you in. The opening track, “Indigo Meadow,” kicks the record off with a drum beat about 10 times thicker than anything on the group’s last record, and Maas quickly chimes in with a correspondingly vivid image: “Lay your hands on my chest, girl/You’ve been a problem from the moment I met you.” A few lines later, the chorus flies in, with some frenetic drum fills as Maas repeats the name of the record with a cacophonous snarl. It’s a great opener that sets up the inviting tone of the new album effectively – warmer, without necessarily being brighter.
The instrumentalists, for their part, sound sharper than ever. The guitarists consistently put out some major riffage, the bass is thick and crunchy and the drummer seems much more willing to stretch himself than before, playing tightly-coiled, energetic grooves throughout the record. The production, similarly, is fantastic – the instruments are made huge and Maas’ vocals are affected just enough to make them stand out without drowning any of his other bandmates out. This is music you can see, and there’s a great dimensionality to Indigo Meadow’s sonic landscape.
For the most part, Maas’ lyrics deal with much more tangible subjects than they ever have before, and there are a surprising number of love songs, with “Indigo Meadow,” “Evil Things,” “You’re Mine,” “Love Me Forever” and “Black Isn’t Black” all acting as unique Black Angels takes on love and desire. For the most part, it’s a winning formula, and demonstrates that even when covering topics that have been done to death, The Black Angels can still sound fresh and unpredictable.
Indigo Meadow also showcases The Black Angels delving into more political issues. Third track “Don’t Play With Guns” seems especially topical, with a driving chorus and uniquely historical lyrical approach that makes you question where The Black Angels stands on the issue, and it might just get you thinking about your own perspective as well.
Its ninth track “Broken Soldier” might just be the best example of Maas’ newly accessible lyrical style, however, as he provides a stirringly earnest look at PTSD in war veterans. Over an ironically bouncy instrumental track, Maas takes on the persona of a soldier trying to reconnect with someone close: “I wanna be able to close my eyes with you/I wanna feel safe closing my eyes with you/Maybe, baby, when I feel safe, I’ll tell you one day what happened to me.” As the chorus explodes in a fury of bass and drums, Maas asks the question we as a society seem afraid to ask (“Will you be the same/When this is over?”), and then gives the answer we’re all too afraid to admit (“You’ll never be the same/When this is over.”) The song is just dripping with lyrical gems like this, and it’s a simultaneously furious and heartbreaking contender for the best song of the year.
In light of this new lyrical approach, the more traditional takes seem to fall a bit flat – the “trippy” conceit of “I Hear Colors (Chromasthesia)” is just way too obvious, with lyrics that sound like something someone making fun of psych rock would come up with: “I hear colors running through my mind/I can feel them dripping in my eye/I see colors, ancient spectral light/In through me they enter, make me shine!” Next track “Twisted Light,” despite some inspired work from the rhythm section, suffers from the same lyrical un-inventiveness.
Because of a small handful of these creative missteps, Indigo Meadow feels a bit lengthy at thirteen tracks. But these are petty gripes in the face of what is, generally, a fantastic LP, one that demonstrates a large amount of progression and maturity. And for its part, the group seems both conscious of and confident in its own re-invention, with Maas ending the record with a bold, haunting statement: “Now, black isn’t black anymore.”
He couldn’t be more right.
