Sunday, May 12, 2024

Creative Writing Piece: Sonic Lessons In Terror

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AI-generated image depicting a hellscape

By René Huels, Contributor to The LF

***TW: sexual assault, sexual and emotional abuse, death***

The most primal emotion that everyone on earth has experienced is fear. Everyone has been scared. From the Pope to the President, to the man down the road, everyone has felt that chill, that needle on the back of their neck and that feeling that passes through you like a ghost. While the root of fear may differ for most, the emotion itself is universal. Some even “get off”, so to speak, on fear. Sometimes in the bedroom, sometimes in a movie theatre or even blaring through a sound system. That last example is what we’ll be looking at today. I won’t be analysing horror film scores, or classical orchestral compositions, but instead a few incredible songs from three artists that really strike that point of terror on the head. For the best effect, listen to each song as you read.

SATAN IN THE WAIT – DAUGHTERS (2018)

That single tom hit hooks you in, like a punch in the mouth from a stranger at the bar. It demands your attention. An ever present drum pattern inspires the vision of a totalitarian march, the high pitched sirens sing a broken melody and the bass blurts out low-end notes like vomit that weighs 800 tonnes. This song comes from a place of total madness and is guaranteed to strike fear into anyone that thinks themselves courageous enough to listen.

While the music of Daughters is incredibly well executed, the members of Daughters are themselves yet another example of a belligerent and at times abusive group of men in rock. Frontman, Alexis Marshall, is unfortunately a deeply disturbed and unhinged artist, in song and in his personal life. Former partner and artist Kristin Hayter, professionally known as Lingua Ignota, made claims of extreme emotional and sexual abuse from Marshall in 2021, making a full statement detailing her relationship with Marshall. From the comprehensive statement Within a few weeks of living together, he sexually assaulted me while I was sleeping. I woke up to being fully penetrated.” Hayter recounts a traumatic experience in which during “objectifying, violent sex”, she sustained a severe spinal injury which required surgery, amidst an incredibly toxic relationship. Later, once Hayter had effectively broken off the relationship with Marshall by kicking him out of their house, she reached out to an unnamed member of the band about the abuse she suffered in her time with Marshall. The band member did not respond. I feel the need to mention this because this puts a layer of context into the music. By understanding the actions of Alexis Marshall, which was corroborated by multiple women who have been abused by him, the comprehension of the lyrics and the music is affected in a deeply disturbing way. 

“Sees some gutless worm seeking a free ride inside the stomach of a whale. He can live without air for several days, he says. He says he knows things, this man he says.” The words of a madman, a totally lost individual with no bearings on reality or sensibility. “Their bodies are open. Their channels are open. This world is opening up.” What Eldritch horrors the band depict, with a string section in the chorus presenting a false flag of hope for a better day before distorting back into the verse, falling away and sputtering back into the rot. 

“They each raise a glass and clang “Here’s to what will, Here’s to the sharpened pencil, splitting the cast from the skin, curing the itch, curling the toes. Here’s to celebrity and fulfilment. Here’s to the top of the world. Here’s to a tired leaning wall. Here’s to the tragedy to ensue.”  An extended description of the pervading influence that evil seems to drape over the world. Ironic coming from Marshall’s mouth, a man who himself perpetuates the evil that he describes. The song then begins to rise from the 9th circle, the sirens ascending, and the strings stuttering to a crescendo. The drums roll, increasing momentum. Then, a cymbal crashes and we explode back into the chorus. 

A moment of pause as the drums begin to tap out a luring rhythm. Strikes and stretches of the guitar strings float in and out, up and down. “Todays gonna feel like tomorrow some day. Tomorrow’s gonna feel like yesterday.” Such a depressing and dissociated view of the world, no hope, no nothing. Then, in one swift movement, the music descends. Not in volume or tone, but rather in mood. A terrible boom and the pits of the world open to the infinite circles of hell. The former hopeful strings violently rip their tone into forlorn and lost. “This world is opening up.” Marshall repeats. This world was not opening up to the people of the world to expand and reach, this world was opening to swallow all life whole.

THE HANDS OF SMALL CHILDREN/DIARY OF A DOPEFIEND – MARILYN MANSON (1995)

These are two songs, separated as the first and second track on Marilyn Manson’s EP “Smells Like Children”. The former of which has never been an easy listen for me. This song “The Hands of Small Children” is a supreme masterclass in sound design with the goal of maximising panic. 

A purely instrumental track, it begins with this screech fading in, then the worst part that seems to stick around for the whole length of the track: This otherworldly, low pitched vocal sample that wiggles and convulses slowly across the left and right channel like a worm. The tone of this distorted voice is almost like some sort of disturbed laughter. Then, the sound of a child crying. This sample is also distorted, writhing around like someone is being violated, like someone is being… forced against their will. I’ll use my better judgement and refrain from using a word that may be upsetting to some, but this track is truly unwell. Knowing Manson’s track record of abuse, it’s scary to think how it must’ve felt to be in the recording studio when this was made.

“Hands” then flows seamlessly into the second track of the EP, “Diary Of A Dope Fiend”, with the pitch distorted vocals fading away and a sludge-like bassline meandering in. A pop of the snare and the words “Do you still love me? Missy?” are spoken, filtered as if through an old H.A.M radio. Missy is in reference to Manson’s ex-girlfriend , Melissa Romero, in the mid-90s. The song itself is a slowed down and redone version of the song “Dope Hat” originally appearing on Manson’s debut album “Portrait of An American Family”. While the original sounded more manic and in lieu of the tunnel scene in the original Willy Wonka film, this version is slowed to such a sluggish pace that it feels like being dragged through a mud road that’s 20 miles long. “I am so pretty and withdrawn” says Manson, drawing out each syllable as if OD-ing while recording. The song slowly progresses through the intro before subtly rising with the lead and rhythm guitar playing the main riff.

The lyrics and main structure are unchanged for the most part between the original and redone version, though Manson’s eloquence and tone sounds filthier and more vile. “I struggle for control, and the children love the show, but they fail to see the anguish in my eyes.” is spoken with more conviction and aggression in the original “Dope Hat”, more like a call out to the society that cast off this addict. In this version, these words are uttered by the mouth of someone who has lost all faith and hope for themselves. A completely far-gone human, who if you had heard on the street, you could barely feel pity for. A dim light shines through the speakers and the guitar comes in, whistling and phasing between our ears like a ghost, reversing itself and fluttering back into the space outside the song.

 “I scratch around the brim. I let my mind give in, and the crowd begins to grin.” An insistent need to etch and claw at one’s self, a maddened state. Manson’s words strike a point about celebrity and the spotlight, how those that are seen on stages are often pointed at and mocked whilst publicly battling their addictions or mental illness. “And I’m never ever coming down.” Manson says, before rising into the chorus. A fuzzed-out boom from the guitars, the drums in a steady flow and Manson elevating his voice to that of a towering demon. “Fail to see the tragic, turn it into magic” The track then introduces these blown-out horns, shooting out notes that shake the ground. Manson’s voice booming and echoing through what sounds like a twisted amusement park’s PA system: “My big top tricks will always make you happy, but we all know the hat is wearing me”. A comical and circus-like descent from the horns and we return to the mud filled verses. Manson continues to detail his addiction and love of drugs, through a clenched jaw and what can be interpreted as an abandoned factory from Willy Wonka, making reference to the “monkey on his back” as a “Rabbit in disguise”, as well as “Stars and pills and needles” dancing before our eyes. 

PEANUT – EARL SWEATSHIRT (2018)

While some of the other songs in this article have been quite lengthy, with “Satan In The Wait” running for just over 7 minutes, this track keeps itself contained in a minute long bubble. It has also gained a reputation as the worst minute and a half I can put myself through. Wasting no time with an intro, the track begins with a quick vocal sample and a descending tone in the background. A moment later, a droning and weighted low-end warbles into earshot. A chopped piano hums its low notes intermittently, when allowed to. Earl is known the world over for his incredible lyrical ability, and has been praised for it since he was 16, and this song is no exception. 

Earl has said this song was recorded while drunk and alone after the passing of his father, Keorapetse Kgositsile, and the lyrics along with his slurred delivery show the damaged and isolated mindset Earl must’ve been in at the time. “Family saw you on the stage, left it not amazed. Thought you’d up and aim?” Harkens a sombre note, a moment of disappointment perhaps. The track begins to crush and churn, with static/white noise filling the void behind the bass and piano. Every so often, a sudden click and clap and the instrumental cuts out, before abruptly returning. Get the fuck back, you moving like they cut ya ‘caine.” Whether this is in reference to the cutting of Fentanyl into drugs or the cutting out of cocaine itself, the line evokes a haunting idea of a lumbering and vacant addict. 

Earl has opened up about his struggles with depression and mental health in previous projects like “I Don’t Like Shit, I Don’t Go Outside” back in 2015. But here, through some of his harshest and most painful lines as well as his most gripping production, Earl paints the clearest and darkest picture of his emotional wellbeing at the time of recording. “Fleshing through the pain, depression, this is not a phase. Picking out his grave couldn’t help but feel out of place. Tryna catch some rays, death and hops a sour taste.” An incredibly vivid description of someone in mourning. Someone lost. Someone in pain. The slog and labour you have to wade through in order to better yourself is best shown through this track. Personally, as someone who can approximate my experience to that of Earl’s, this track is by far the most hauntingly accurate reflection of the headspace that is developed during periods of grief and loss.

Fear is somewhat easy to invoke in a listener. A couple loud screeches, maybe a crunchy distortion on a bass and the vague idea of horror motifs, and even Justin Bieber could bang out a halloween hit. But emotions like Terror, Panic and Dread are hard to accurately get across. The artists showcased here have sharpened the blade that is Terror in audio, and a few others have too. Bands like clipping. are an incredible example in utilising noise and manipulating ambient sounds. While not overtly terrifying, songs like “Rainbow Six” by JPEGMAFIA makes use of an incredibly unsettling vocal sample, and bands like Black Midi can create horrific soundscapes in songs like “Sweatshirt”. By taking a closer look at these songs, we can better understand the aspect of fear in the human condition and if you’re brave enough, come out of it alive.

Contributor to The London Financial
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