You wake up at three-fourteen in the morning from the worst dream you've ever had, you're coated in sweat, and you're panting. You get out of bed and walk to the kitchen to get yourself a glass of water before you lay back down, and you pass out again almost instantly. The exact same nightmare re-occurs, jolting you awake once again, and you check the clock again after you've managed to calm yourself down enough. It's three-twenty-nine now, but this time you're scared to go back to sleep, and you're also scared of not functioning properly tomorrow. One more time, you try to drift back to sleep, only for the same results to transpire. There's no way you'll be able to fall back into your slumber even if you wanted to, so instead you lie awake with your thoughts, and with a sense of dread due to what you've experienced this night; you know it's going to be a long one. The hallucinations start around four o'clock this time, causing you to question if you're still awake, asleep, or maybe if you'd never even woken up at all. You're stuck in a haunting cycle that feels like it'll never end.
The Bar Goblin's debut record is terrifying in every single way that it intends to be. The project's creator, Henry Johnson, rallies ghastly apparitions and disturbing cries haunt this record until its mountainous ending. It's almost comparable to those ridiculous Halloween SFX discs that you can find whenever you visit the thrift store because it's bizarre, attention-demanding and sets out to materialize some interpretation of iniquity; but there's nothing comical, playful or lighthearted here. There are no traditional songs present, and this thing fits every definition of the word bleak. There's unquestionably no light peeking through in the dense fog that composes It Manifests, and it was never meant to be a pleasant listening experience. That doesn't mean it's not enjoyable, or that it's unlistenable, but I'd be disinclined to call it entertainment, at least in the traditional sense of the word. I wouldn't hesitate for even a moment to say that this is a cursed album, if cursed music is a thing. It's not evil or malicious, but it's very real whilst being very murky and overcast. It is incredibly purposeful, though.
Johnson created this album with the intention of making a statement on mental health in a way that most artists haven't attempted to tackle the subject matter, and he's done this with triumphant success. Unlike many mainstream artists that have made some attempt to market to and capitalize upon troubled people, The Bar Goblin has put together a record that doesn't sugarcoat the realities of what depression is. It Manifests serves its purpose as a clarification to people who haven't experienced any major mental health issues, and it's to be something that makes sense to people that have. It's not an artistic statement that's been prompted to comfort them, however; and it's more effective as reminding a troubled person that what they're going through is bad, that it's nightmarish and it's unhealthy to romanticize it. It encourages people to try to move past what they're going through instead of accepting it, and with such a statement, I find it to be among the most refreshing and effective art pieces to have addressed the subject matter at all.
With a few exceptions in the album's duration, it's hard to pinpoint exactly what is summoning the grim sounds coming through your speakers. Of course, there are digital synths in here, but none of them are used in a traditional way. It sounds as if whatever instrumentation was used, The Bar Goblin made sure to mutilate it beyond recognition before allowing it to secure a place on It Manifests. Obscure samples can be found all the way through, and they're always slowed down, chopped up and/or butchered. The music treads along its disturbing hazy atmosphere that's entirely impenetrable through its expressionist declarations. Although the album is seemingly subtle on the surface due to its lack of layering, it's not any less haunting by choosing to express itself this way. However, once the record has reached the closing piece, "Grieve," all subtlety is entirely abandoned. This song is a monstrous cry for help in a sea of harsh noise, industrial drums and guitars. Intense, disorienting wails over this song cause it to resemble some of the earlier works from The Body, and this is a rare example of an album that truly builds to a climax.
It Manifests is a perfect precedent in demonstrating what can be done with an expression of depression and pain. The album doesn't utilize any cliches, and it doesn't bring any superficial elements to it. This is an example of raw emotion, which isn't always appealing, and it's not always pretty. If you're willing to experience it, it's worth listening to as an artistic triumph. It likely isn't an album that you'll revisit everyday, not only because it's so dark, but because it can be an emotionally draining listen, and I mean that only as praise. This album is something that a lot of people will be able to relate to, but it's not comforting, and it's not a safe space. For other people, it may be frightening, in some way or another. To each listener, it could mean something completely different, and that's always okay. Whatever this album means to you, it may be emotionally advantageous for you to let it do what it does. It Manifests is nightmarish, haunting and ghastly in the most painfully truthful way there is.
0 Comments