by Zak Mercado
In Robert Pirsig’s Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Repair, he identifies a “church of reason” in the world. This is a place of communion, worship, or, in a sense, the place where, often, hypocrisy reigns—a place that feels so certain of itself while simultaneously being vacuous.
On Bloody Head’s new record Bend Down and Kiss the Ground, the group articulates what could be called the “church or reason” of contemporary time. Like their many punk and hardcore-leaning forebearers, Bloody Head’s message is against the worship of the State or perceived realities. “There’s a thousand ways to pray/There’s a thousand ways… to bend down and kiss the ground.” The worship is centered on fleeting things of uncertain substance or essence. This message is delivered through a sense of doom and distance, played out as if in a dark theater with a single spotlight on the vacant moral evils of the world with coiled rage or indignation. The songs on this record stretch out to patiently deliver their statements. This spring-loaded anger and doom feels like control is about to be lost, like violence is about to emerge. The tracks, in this form, feel appropriately set alongside this moment of culture and accompanying sense of loss of control. These tracks are able to convey the glut of billionaires we all bow the neck to. Whether we like it out not, we are bowing down to their perverse church of “reason.”
All four tracks on the record relay the same sense of sparse-yet-big picture statement music akin to God Speed You! Black Emperor. The sonic delivery brings listeners to the barren desert of the lifeless existence of the capitalist super-structure and the institutions that uphold it, ultimately providing a motivating feeling to tear it down. This especially feels true in the lyric-less “Vibratory Affinity.” In contrast, the other tracks are comparable to Sleep’s Dopesmoker, with lyrics emerging out of the dangerously winding dirge of these tunes.
On the longest track of the record, “Time, as Veiled Eternity,” the church and center of worship is time — the tongue-in-check pithy phrases we worship, to provide us creature comfort: “there is no time to waste…/so, take it/take your sweet time.” The potency of this track cannot be understated. It demonstrates the tense nature of this group’s musical structure. But it somehow manages to feel like control is about to be lost. It seemingly does, as the quiet-soft quality of this musical odyssey evolves, eventually trailing off with banshee-like screeching guitar parts. Best be careful playing with anything as “certain” as time.
Bend Down and Kiss the Ground provides rewarding re-listens, especially considering its relative brevity. It’s nice to sit inside the intensity of feeling of this record, and the want to return right back to it not long later.