Auld Lang Syne
Midnight Folly
Viper Bite; 2009
My ears, eyes, and psyche have been subjected to all manner of apocalyptic imagery throughout the course of my life. I’ve heard sermons from a host of evangelical and fundamentalist preachers, all trying to scare the hell out of me (or, as they would put it, scare me out of hell). Some have featured melodramatic hysterics that would make Jonathan Edwards proud, while others concocted their best Stephen King, “I-will-freak-out-the-congregation-by-being-grim-and-darkly-pathological” impression. Furthermore, I spent six years working in a Christian bookstore during the height of the Left Behind mania (both the books and lame Kirk Cameron movies). Suffice to say, I’m well versed in contemporary “The End Is Near!” histrionics.
Thus, it could be a sign of how far I’ve traveled in the past five years spiritually and psychologically when I declare my preference for authors like Cormac McCarthy and bands like Auld Lang Syne with their description of the “end” of the current age. Midnight Folly enters my ears with the force and power of Tom Waits singing over quality post-country rock. The nine songs on this project are passionate dirges being rendered at a funeral for a once-beloved world, one whose recent passing we don’t have time to fully lament because we’re too busy trying to stay alive.
There are heaps of generally religious and specifically Biblical imagery at play here, especially those of the Jeremiah, Lamentations, and Revelations variety. The songs possess a dismal, dust bowl-esque world-weariness about them, the type that conjures up the impression of a lone cowboy scavenging for food amidst the rubble of a burned-out city. Admittedly, these topical themes and impressions are becoming a bit commonplace in some literary and musical circles, particularly when placed alongside a garrulous voice and painfully mournful balladry. But when Auld Lang Syne really gets things working, expressly on tracks like “Rusty Prayer,” “Why We Cry,” and “My First Soul,” it’s difficult to resist the band’s strong message.
That being said, Midnight Folly isn’t a perfect record, as there are several instances where it falls under its own droning spell. There are certain songs on this record are much longer than they need to be: powerful paeans become slogging sermons when the band bludgeons any and all life out of a given melodic motif. For instance, “Four Rivers” and “Red Feather” would be supremely better selections if not for the extended instrumental jams that are allowed to run loose and free in between chorus appearances. I would rather hear Auld Lang Syne craft a sharper, tighter track, carving unneeded minutes of plodding, chugging chords away to get at the meat of the matter.
Simply put, the listener can get easily lost amidst the ponderous riffs, much like that aforementioned cowboy as he picks out a path amongst the ruins. If anything, this exactly the effect that the slide guitars, warbling leads, and harmonicas of Auld Lang Syne have projected on this record – often, travelers in a post-apocalyptic wasteland must be willing to endure difficult stretches of unfortunate sameness in between pockets of arable land and excellent resources. Midnight Folly is certainly a journey worth taking, but explorers must be ready for equal amounts of darkness before they find the dawn. This record has certainly casts a more effective shadow upon my imagination that most of the scary sermons I’ve ever heard.