Review: Deafheaven Rounds Up All of Their Eras with Lonely People With Power
Though they’re not the creators of post-black metal or blackgaze, San Francisco exports Deafheaven gave the genre a much wider appeal alongside giants like Lamb of God and Slipknot, and even received a Grammy nomination for their troubles. Combining Alcest-ish serenity with frenetic hews of screamo and post-hardcore gave 2013’s Sunbather crossover appeal, but also a lack of acceptance within the metal scene. In light of this, Deafheaven’s discography often takes a reactive form. The harder edge of 2015’s New Bermuda, the anthemic nuances of 2018’s Ordinary Corrupt Human Love, and the demure post-punk vibes of 2021’s Infinite Granit all pushed against expectations in their own way. Perhaps that’s why Lonely People with Power feels so cozy in comparison. The album contains something from every Deafheaven era and even improves on some previously less successful experiments.
As the strange soundscapes of “Incidental I” give way to the band’s iconic blackgaze goodness, Deafheaven shows how much they’ve perfected their balance of chaotic emotion, melodious riffs, and shrill screams to a point where it’s not even about “wow, these guys do shoegaze and black metal.” It’s officially about songwriting at this point, and in that regard, the song delivers an emotional rollercoaster worthy of “Dreamhouse” or “You Without End” as a bonafide epitome of Deafheaven. The “metal” elements (like the electrifying half-time crunch toward the midpoint) serve as a way to accentuate emotion, just as the pillowy ambiance softens the impact of George Clarke’s heartwrenching storytelling.
While contrasts are often overplayed in metal, it’s satisfying to hear guitarists Kerry McCoy and Shiv Mehra run with both ends of their sonic spectrum. “Magnolia” contains some of the most infectious thrashings riffage of the band’s career without veering into generic headbang fodder (“Baby Blue” comes to mind). In this case, Deafheaven makes a point to never let up the song’s assault, in direct contrast to the shimmering mid-tempo dream pop structures of “The Garden Roubt.” While Clarke’s vocals remain as reached as ever, he writes a bitter-sweet love story. Not that lyrics like “We traversed warm boredom/ Fled disappointment/ And loved under the wide rose sky” are unheard of in this particular subgenre. Still, Deafheaven brings nuance and thoughtfulness to these more delicate arrangements that transcend the sad-boi black metal aesthetic.
On that note, “Heathen” successfully incorporates the band’s recent foray into melodic vocals into a more Deafheaven-ish framework. What’s also amazing is that having clean and screamed vocals doesn’t lead to a good-cop-bad-cop structure that ruins so much melodic metal. Deafheaven’s ebb and flow remain intuitive, following emotional expression instead of pedantic contrasts. In this way, a cut like “Amethyst” stays interesting, as the most sprawling track on the record. As the track builds from spoken word and reserved moodiness to surging, double-kick-laden passion, nothing ever feels over-aggrandized. Deafheaven reaches the climax seamlessly and rides out an emotional peak for just long enough. Hypnotic? Yes. Dreamlike? Yes. Boring? No.
The other two “Incidental” tracks, while retaining Deafheaven’s penchant for extended interludes, also do a lot to show the stylistic breadth of this era for the band. While “II” centers on the iconic voice of Jae Matthews coldwave staples Boyharsher (before it goes full death industrial), “III” progresses via spoken word from Paul Banks of Interpol fame. In both cases, Deafheaven doesn’t subvert expectations for its own sake. They’ve had an interest in ambient texture, and these certainly provide textures unique to their discography.
While the abject aggression of “Revelator” keeps the album’s urgency up, it does unfortunately contain a less-than-successful dynamic bait and switch. The bulk of the track revels in an Emperor-esque array of harrowing, jagged, riffage and viscous drums, the flow upends itself with an abrupt shift to clean guitars only to explode back to business as usual. It’s more noticeable, considering how fluid Deafheaven tends to be in their dynamic shifts. Even the mid-tempo rock structures of “Body Behavior” don’t suffer from blandness, using the bouncier vibe to generate some strikingly anthemic guitar leads.
Deafheaven’s approach shows a willingness to experiment with a form without being obnoxious about it, like Daniel Tracy’s lowercase blast beat that starts “Winona.” It’s a simple recontextualization, it makes the bombastic chords and drum fills that much more satisfying. Clarke’s vocals take on the feeling of hopelessness in the face of seeming progress — “I know I need it/ No, there is no freedom/ There’s a missing piece.” This sentiment reaches a fever pitch with some genuinely cathartic harmonized vocals over the final blasts and shrieks.
As “The Marvelous Orange Tree” ends the album with a gorgeous nod to Alcest, Clarke’s singing takes on its most beautiful timbre yet. Ironically, this is the most traditional “blackgaze” gaze song on the album — not only driving home how much more comfortable Deafheaven is within this more pop-ish glow, but showing that these guys have covered enough ground as artists to incorporate it all into a succinct, engaging experience. Fans of any Deafheaven album will hear something for them, while others may find their reservations about previous outings mended by the band’s sheer maturation.
Deafheaven’s Lonely People With Power will be out March 28 via Roadrunner Records.
