It’s been a lovely time for everyone, hasn’t it? There’s no shortage of major terrible things going on in the world right now. Between genocide, wars, and the hellish state capitalism finds itself right now, it seems everything is straight-up fucked. Even if you don’t suffer directly from any of those things, they affect your morale, one way or the other. It’s been really hard to have faith in humanity and better times to come, at least for me.
We also have our individual battles and hardships. While it can seem unfair to compare our own personal shit to vastly worse things that others are suffering from, we can’t diminish the effect it has on us. Our battles are our own, and no one can judge how they affect us. I mean, is anyone truly okay these days?
Hope has never been more important. Hope for better days, hope that things are going to be alright. This hope has to be nourished, strenghened, even in the darkest hours. This is what post-rock masters We Lost The Sea‘s latest opus is all about – finding A Single Flower of hope amidst the chaos.
Post-rock, as a genre, can really tug on your heartstrings with its introspective nature and big focus on cathartic explosions. For me, it generally does evoke at least a ‘this is nice’ feeling. At it’s best, though, it devastates my soul and sows it back together. A Single Flower connected to me by the very first listen, on the very first song. It gave light to pain I held deep in my heart. It’s not an easy listen, but for me, it’s been a necessary one.
While We Lost The Sea has always been very positioned on the more emotional side of post-rock, especially on the acclaimed Departure Songs, their newest opus dares you to confront things that are outside of your own personal bubble. From the first notes of “If They Had Hearts”, the atmosphere is set to a darker, overwhelming, almost destructive tone. You’re not just thinking about your own personal struggles, but the shocklingy bleak state of our species. It reminds me of the darker moments of Godspeed You, Black Emperor! – not in its music per se, but how it made me feel. And with post-rock, I find that how a song makes you feel is far more important than anything else.
All of these songs continue to confront the listener with varying emotions – rage, despair, fear, hate. It takes you on a journey of self reflection on the things you’d rather not reflect too much about. However, it’s by confronting these feelings that you end up being able to also reflect on the good things about life. That’s why when the hopeful, cathartically beautiful moments spread thoughout A Single Flower hit, they hit with everything they got. “Bloom (Murmurations of First Light)” has got to be one of the most beautiful things I’ve ever heard, and while some may find “The Gloaming” as a glorified intro to the final track, I find it to be a standout track on its own. But perhaps I’m just a sucker for violins.
And yeah, the album closes itself with “Blood Will Have Blood”, a 27 minute opus. After this emotional journey, I thought to myself: ‘Can I really handle a full half hour of this?‘, and of course I did, because it’s amazing. I could say that the entirety of the album kind of prepared you for it, but it’s so solid that it could stand tall as its own adventure, with an incredible variety of twists and turns. Whenever someone hits you with the old ‘post-rock is boring and repetitive‘, this is a perfect track to prove otherwise.
To be honest, I don’t think I’ll be revisiting this album often. Not because I didn’t enjoy it, or because I want to run away from the things it makes me think about. It’s one of those pieces you have to pour yourself into in order to get its full potential. When I eventually do revisit it, though, I’m sure I’ll do it at the right time, when I need it most. When I have to rekindle that spark of hope again.
We can’t let hope vanish, as perhaps it is one of the only things that keeps us sane. Even if there’s only A Single Flower of it remaining, it persists. It can be damaged, but I’d like to believe, as naive as it may be, that it can’t be torn without eventually growing itself back, perhaps as a different flower, but still: it’s there, standing strong.
Perhaps when you listen to it, you’ll have a completely different experience with it than I did. You may perceive it’s more about our own personal darkness than it is about our collective darkness, and that’s a super valid perspective as well. As with all introspective music, we all experience it through our own lens. What remains is the fact that We Lost The Sea have crafted an album that has all the makings of what could be a landmark in the genre. I know it is for me.
