the silver mt. zion memorial orchestra & tra-la-la band with choir  - "this is our punk rock" thee rusted satellites gather + sing (Contellation)

While Godspeed You Black Emperor make music that is immensely crafted, controlled and epic by design, Silver Mt Zion, the sextet fronted by Godspeed's Efrim, are altogether more primal. The bleak imagery and overwhelming spirituality are there, and, in places, so are the soul-bleeding strings and gentle guitars. But Silver Mt feels like a more concentrated effort, composed and conceived by one, or perhaps all six of the artists, with much more focus and personalness than some of the early Godspeed records. 

Probably, the big difference is that on Silver Mt records, Efrim gains a voice, and hence the music gains a narrative, a focal point. In fact, the whole thing is altogether more vocal. Sow Some Lonesome Corner..., in its first segment introduces the 'Tra-La-La Band', an amateur choir assembled specifically for this record, whose tribal monk-like chanting is too disturbing to be atmospheric. There is motivation in this opening section, a mass of voices moving forward as one; conviction. In contrast, Efrim's vocals, solo and naked, shaking feebly with every note, that are crippling and agonising. His voice cracks, loses its pitch momentarily as he sings 'you fell away from me'... and it's harrowing. His repetition is equally disturbing, as he uses his voice in the same way as Godspeed use their guitars, growing more intense as he repeats himself. 

These four songs, extended into several sections, as is the Constellation way, are each a eulogy to a failing world. Silver Mt offer lament for our destruction of the natural world, and also of human creations of beauty: the final track, the most earnest of the album, is about an old train yard in Montreal, being demolished to make way for fancy living space. This isn't so much punk rock as an after thought of regret for the human race. 

It's difficult to write off Silver Mt Zion, even if the latest incarnation of their band's name, as well as their song titles, are gratingly anal. There is no room for such hasty prejudice though, because the band have provided enough visual imagery in their meticulously put-together record sleeve, both confusing and awe-inspiring, to prove that they really do meant it. There is nothing as iconic as Yanqui U.X.O.'s 3 Winged Kittens And The Hammer Of Hope - instead, there are scribbled poems, gloomy photographs, the cover of a Chinese cigarette packet depicting some picturesque mountains, and the scrawled message to BE FREE.  It would be easy to utter the word 'pretentious', were it not for the very real aching embedded within this music - nobody here is pretending.                      

-XvScott