Perfect Song: The Angels of Light - "Praise Your Name"

I've always had a cultish devotion to Michael Gira and Swans, maybe because they explore that type of relational power dynamics and maybe there is something in me that seeks that out. When writing about music, I try to separate the musician out of the equation as much as possible, because I think you can get too lost in biography. Like, when was the last time you put an Elvis song on, compared to the last time you referenced Elvis in some capacity? And maybe my daddy-issue bullshit engenders this arguably forced divition between creator and product, and in defining myself, which I think is largely what one does as an artist, maybe I am over-reacting against it. I assume this is transparent to those that know me, and I'm not sure I'm all that interested in the resolution of this conflict, because its working for me.

And I certainly don't see Michael Gira as a father figure, or if I do, the misanthropic callousness and need for annihilation exhibited in much of his catalog makes me an even more fucked-up little dude than I thought. But something in that way Gira's Angels of Light portrays The Abyss I find exhilarating. In my book, I said this about The Angels of Light:

It bodes you well to remember who the OG Angel of Light really was, and we all know that ever since Robert Johnson had those aforementioned strings put on his instrument at the crossroads, his music is always the best.

and the melancholy gospel of "Praise Your Name" is like that whiff of smoky brimstone I always find comforting. Maybe its the onset of autumn. if one is to believe the Greeks, we got autumn and winter because randy old Hades popped out of the Earth to swipe Persephone, ripe in innocent womanhood, as they will have it, and took her down into hell for his bride, and the vengeance of Demeter, her mother the harvest goddess, was manifested on earth by famine.

Perpetual winter puts a damper on god worship, so deal was worked out between Olympus and the king of the dead. Because the foolish girl ate six pomegranates seeds while in Hell, and could not exactly return them in the original packaging, she was bound to her husband for a season each year, and Demeter's sadness became the winter, but more importantly, autumn was the time when she took Persephone shopping for a new hell wardrobe and packed her suitcase for their impending separation, and maybe that is sadder than the actual event. Preparation for death vs. death itself. How do you adequately prepare for such a thing?

You can only embrace the autumnal and roll with it, and that is what this song does for me every time I hear it. It bums me out, but in the best possible way. Enjoy!

The Angels of Light – praise your name