Deerhunter - Halcyon Digest
4AD
September 27th, 2010.
The height of Deerhunter's convergence of sound and quality; the pinnacle of the bands output came at the fifth instalment of their neo-psychedelic, indie essence. Halcyon Digest is where Deerhunter's balance of sleepy and sufficiently energised meets its equilibrium. Said album turns 15 today. It would be the last Deerhunter album to feature Josh Fauver. Fauver would pass away in November of 2018.
Halcyon Digest wakes from a sleepy slumber with "Earthquake". Hi-hats sizzle as distorted-backwards-clap-things snap. Guitars unferl and float out, bloom. "Do you recall waking up on a dirty couch, your face was white as all?" Mind running on overtime, running on a highly-caffeinated haze. Two steps from a comatosed existence. On the brink of a never-forever. Darkened hallways and synthetic sunlight. Itchy skin. Dirty nails. Crusty eyes. Growing into the world in seedy ways. Seeing into the seedy side, but not seeing through it. Don't cry; it's all a part of the process. It'll all make sense when you see the other side. I'm saved, I'm saved. Back from the dead and dancing. Swift and satiated limbs. Wind in my sails. Full of fight, for peace. Nowhere to be; nothing to see - except me. The chosen one. Aligned and lifted. Lit up by a different light. He's gone, gone, gone, gone, gone. The Sun's gone down. Maybe to be seen again; but then again maybe nevernomore. Time will tell as time has told.
Two of the finest tracks of the 2010's - "Desire Lines" and "Helicopter" - the room for debate is there, sit center to the magic of Halcyon Digest. The joyful, lachrymose surrender that sits inside of said tracks is both life-affirming and soul-destroying. They're a gut-wrenching blow of agonising beauty. The album imbues an accepted despondent state. The mind one colossal mesh of uncertainty and self-doubt. It's the aural embodiment of "keep your head up and sigh."
"Desire Lines" is a mammoth of psychedelic splendour. "Walking free. Come with me. Far away. Everydayyy." Being young and free. Free of responsibility, worry, the outer world. Excitement with every step. The crushing realisation that you will have to grow up and into it. "Desire Lines" outro-ball rolls from roughly the 4-minute mark. The shift at 4'35", and then again at 5'14", is the stuff that ears - life itself - were made for.
A condensed version of "Helicopter": "Take my hand and pray for me. The devil now has come for me. And helicopter's circling the sea. I pray for rest. Could you pray for us? All these drugs they play on me in these terrible ways. They don't pay like they used to pay. I used to make it day-to-day."
First he/they/it giveth; then he/they/it taketh away. Biting the hand that feeds - your own hand. Short-term fun; long-term misery. Sick of self-sabotage, yet unable to undo.
"No one cares for me, I keep no company, I have minimal needs. Now they are through with me...". The day has come in which life has no more time for my ways. The end of the line; or the start of another. The eternal crossroads: life and death.
Closing track "He Would Have Laughed" is supposedly dedicated to Jay Reatard who passed away in January of 2010. It's a bit of a cryptic track - a lot of Halcyon Digest seems to fall into the ambiguous mould of 'just out of reach'. Bradford Cox is as ambiguous with the pen as any. Only bored as I get older. Too much time; not enough time. The never-ending balancing act of wants-and-needs. Where do you go when you're sleeping? Do you traverse the infinite or stay within your skull? Have the cold sweats kicked-in? Do the night terrors tickle your toes? In sweetness come suffering.
Come on. Dream on.
