Weyes Blood: And in the Darkness, Hearts Aglow (Record Review)

Natalie Mering’s anticipated release makes up for its weak emotional impact through sharp production.

3.7/5

Context

2019, to someone of Natalie Laura Mering’s talent, has proved to be a decisive fairy-tale rise through the release of Titanic Rising. Conceptualised as awake-up call to action over the feeling of impeding apocalypse from climate change and disappointments, the album earns acclaim for its ambitious performance, nostalgia, and ethereality. Comparisons after comparisons were made between Mering’s music, made through her stage name of Weyes Blood, and the works of Joni Mitchell or the Carpenters who helps to herald soft rock’s rise to fame in the 1970s. “I actually took the whole lack of domination over nature, hubris of man message home, […]” Mering once told NPR on its release, “To me, that was the big message and it was almost like putting a match on a wet blanket in terms of its impact.”

Three years later, And In The Darkness, Hearts Aglow serves as a mellower follow-up to her acclaimed breakthrough in what she claims to be a trilogy in the making. If her previous record serves as a prophetic warning on the potential chaos that could arise in the future, then In The Darkness is the faint surrender to the end of her hopes to adapt to the new normal. “[This] is my personal response to being in the thick of it.” Mering had once surmised her album’s theme to NME. The ambition is still apparent, but the feeling of hopeless sobriety risks damping her emotive evocation even if that enables her production to stand out more. To break things down, I am adamant in how much the production has shown its shine throughout the record.

Review

Never mind the lovely high notes and the orchestral synths and ambience, ‘God Turned Me Into a Flower’ rings a certain holistic feeling for its multi-layered vocals and serene reverberation. ‘Hearts Aglow’ soars high in its twinkly keyboard playing and some tongue-in-cheek musings about continuing to live on in the middle of complete chaos. “’Cause it’s been a death march/ The whole world is crumbling,” Mering sings on, “For someone to light up my heart again/ And in the darkness, I can guide you in”. ‘The Worst Is Done’, with its guitar strums and catchy drum beat, shows the dissonance between Mering’s anxieties on the lack of lessons learned from the last few years that has proved itself to be crazy. Think an obligatory Carpenters comparison if the beloved 70s duo abstains from commercial adult contemporary in favour of Nixon-era condemnation and anti-arms race advocation.

As charming as the songs are, there are a handful of problems that, while it doesn’t detract from the positives, does weigh down the impact of Hearts Aglow. The more low-key nature of the album takes out the certain excitement as noted in ‘It’s Not Just Me, It’s Everybody’ which sees its attempted crescendo fall off short on what could’ve been an enchanting opener. Not helping is that its song structure and unchanging string playing gives the impression of its climax being reached. Granted, the theme of the record might help to explain it, yet it doesn’t help much in reversing the feeling of dullness. ‘Children of the Empire’, contrary to its epic title, fails to live up to the highs of Titanic Rising and, for all its focus on the plights of the younger generation in inheriting the damaged Earth, it doesn’t carry the subtle urgency to nail down the prospect of climate change. ‘Grapevine’’s lullaby-like tempo only nails down how the slow pacing doesn’t feel befitting of the album itself.

In addition, while the retro-styled focus does help to elevate Weyes Blood’s music towards a charming direction, there are times where it doesn’t work out as well as it could’ve. ‘Twin Flames’ suffers from the lack of build-up of its drumming which has a notably higher priority in the mixing. This leads to something that feels like a Phil Collins highlight around relationship problems and self-authenticity which lacks an impactful chorus nor an awesome drum solo in the end. ‘In Holy Flux’ is mostly an ambient track with its fizzling audio giving a certain hauntology feeling. However, its execution comes off as a meandering pseudo-provocative feeling which could be passed off as a d-side Grouper song. ‘And In The Darkness’ has some beautiful violin, but its short interlude length leaves much to be desired as one of the few instrumental tracks. Finally, the finale in ‘A Given Thing’ backs its romantic musings with a bit of piano and synths even as its theme of examining toxic relationships and starting anew might not have consistently landed its point throughout.

Hearts Aglow is ultimately a kind of statement that reflects on resignation and powerlessness. Within the lack of extravaganza and amidst the reminiscing throwbacks lies a contrapuntal feeling of peace when it’s all but clear that everything is not going according to plan. To say the least. While the album makes references after references to climate change and what could well be the point too far in recovery, I just feel that its lack of urgency is what sets the album back a little. Without the personal contexts which helps to provide a cinematic sensation to Titanic Rising, Hearts Aglow doesn’t only feel stunted in how hard-hitting it can be. It feels stunted even in the depth of its musical content. Who knows what kind of thoughts we could have if, back in ‘Grapevine’, she expands on the narrative of James Dean? He’s the iconic image of teen rebellion back in the 1950s. How impactful would it be if she mentions more about the car accident and its inferred symbolism to the younger generation?

I can say confidently that the album might feel a bit overrated compared to the popular consensus. To me, it hasn’t been able to reach the certain greatness that Mering has clearly shown on her last album – even if it’s in a nuanced fashion. Fans of Weyes Blood are more than welcome to geek out about it thanks to the rich production and well-orchestrated instrumentals. In fact, those who love the soft rock peaks of the 70s should welcome themselves to this album because it barely feels any different in its sounds to there. If you either wish to hear solid chamber pop, epic singer-songwriter lyricism, or just Mering at her best, enter this with a bit of caution and turn ears toward Titanic Rising once you’re finished. It’s simply that good and I hope that the comparison doesn’t come off as being too patronising.


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