Dryvetyme Onlyne

The Antlers
Hospice
Self-Released; 2009

I have waxed eloquently (and, occasionally, rather clumsily) about concept records, from the idea, the form, and the function, to the colossal artistic cojones required to even imagine such a project. It’s not that such albums aren’t worth the effort and/or aren’t chockfull of merit, but more that they often break under the weight of their subject matter and the band’s (much less the record label’s) expectations for the project. As I’ve admitted before, because of my nature as an album “completist,” I want most concept records to work – I want each and every song to resonate harmoniously around the artist’s chosen topic – but they typically fail my ears, eyes, and brain.

But, as my critical wont, I am here to present one of the exceptions to that general rule: Hospice, the new record from The Antlers. Originally designed by The Antlers’ frontman, Peter Silberman, as a response to his quiet, secretive removal to New York City in 2006, Hospice comes across as a novelistic requiem to a lost loved one that is equal parts deeply sensual longing and achingly pining resolution. While it occasionally drifts into an eerily enchanting lilt of a falsetto, it is Silberman’s reedy, but direct and passionate, tenor that carries the album’s weighty emotions. On track after track, it seems that the story’s protagonist is aware of the facts of his loved one’s story as he sings with a strong resolve, it is quite obvious just how much he still misses the departed.

Musically, this is droning shoegaze and sweeping post-rock at its very best. Layers of guitars are interspersed with trumpet melodies, measured drumming, and Silberman’s voice, creating a sound that could be best described as “gorgeous intensity.” The listener can’t help but experience the oceans of melancholy and drenching reverb that threaten to overwhelm the narrator, yet time and again throughout the album, they are somehow stayed just slightly, allowing the merest of sustaining breaths. If I were to tag the record with a few comparisons, Hospice calls to mind the musical younger sibling of Antony Hegarty and Jeff Buckley fronting the gothic kid sister of Spiritualized (if that makes any sense at all).

But who am I kidding – I’m doing The Antlers a disservice by crafting such crude parallels. Hospice is the definition of a complete musical thought; it would actually be unfair to break apart these ten songs and examine them individually. Nevertheless, I’m going to attempt to do so, using the lyrics of my three favorite songs, in order to display the powerful emotional scenery this band has created.

On “Sylvia,” we listen in as the subject of the album is addressed, in all of her trouble and tumult: “Sylvia, can’t you see what you are doing? Can’t you see I’m scared to speak, and I hate my voice ‘cause it only makes you angry.” With “Bear,” our protagonist discusses the animal growing inside his friend (lover?) using phrases like: “There’s a bear inside your stomach, a cub’s been kicking from within. He’s loud, though without vocal chords, we’ll put an end to him,” and “But we’ll make only quick decisions, and you’ll just keep me in the waiting room, and all the while I’ll know we’re fucked, and not getting un-fucked soon.” And finally, on “Wake,” we approach the climax of the story, with our singer cajoling Syliva with his all his strength: “Don’t be scared to speak, don’t speak with someone’s tooth, don’t bargain when you’re weak, don’t take that sharp abuse. Some patients can’t be saved, but that burden’s not on you. Don’t ever let anyone tell you you deserve that.”

On the whole, The Antlers have presented the music world with a fresh example of how to craft a successful concept record. It takes uncompromising artistic vision, complete lyrical and topical integrity, and a top-notch band willing to commit wholeheartedly to the material. With all of its stomach-churning and ear-burning glory, Hospice has vaulted prominently into my list of favorite records of 2009.