Solo Drive | The Antlers | Hospice

With Monday's reality on the horizon (Sunday, 9:00PM), Santa Barbara's weekend inflow was now collectively heading out. The 101 South splits with Coast Highway about an hour north of Los Angeles, and on impulse, I bared right. It was a long-cut, but the prospect of an open road beat a definite inland traffic. The sunset opportunity had passed, so only black awaited at the guardrail. While scrolling down the audio options, I remembered a recent addition which had yet to really find its night to shine. For 50 miles, momentary headlight diamonds across the water served as the only reminder that the Pacific still existed, or even that I was, in fact, still driving. Otherwise, my car was gone, utterly swept away by:

The Antlers - Hospice (2009)

These days, the earnest, 'heavyweight' album battles an exceptionally low attention span. Maybe we're jaded with overtly emotional music, or simply prefer our current soundtracks sweetly caffeinated and instant. Shying away from symbolic downers makes sense right now. Not to say there isn't some hope in Hospice. Its general vibe, though, is one of isolation, and its narrative is one of hopelessness (a man's hospital relationship with a terminally ill child). But like the family deaths that lead to Arcade Fire's Funeral or more recently, the log cabin-ed soul search documented on Bon Iver's For Emma, Forever Ago, the human spirit can find beautiful ways to cope. And we don't need theatrical ice storms or woodsy remoteness or coastal highways to understand and be affected by their...weight (a solo drive in winter 2005 did assist in the realization of Funeral).

The Antlers (somehow refreshing despite the deer-related name), started two years ago under the intimate recordings of Peter Silberman, and (as they often do) have blossomed into a 3-piece, with one of the year's most powerful records on their hands. Anything with a "Prologue" and "Epilogue" device generally asks to be taken seriously. Hospice supports that request with tracks that can both scratch the cold floor of a deserted hospital and soar atop 'letting it all go' crescendos. To an almost disorienting degree, a familiar melody is repositioned throughout, sometimes hummed over piercing feedback ("Atrophy"), sometimes shouted over marching percussion ("Wake", "Two"), and sometimes, everything all at once ("Bear"). There's no video or mp3 to be posted that could get across what a front-to-back listen can. So, highly recommended.

Solo Drive might be a new feature. If it doesn't feel too forced. And I'm OK with (and you're OK with) getting a little more personal/dangerously review-like than usual.