Navigating through one’s personal darkness certainly is not an easy thing to manage, much less try to quell so normal activities each day can go on as usual. There are people suffering from any number of afflictions that they keep on the inside, that many people in their lives never see or understand, and trying to get through that can be utter and complete hell.
Livgone can be described as atmospheric dark rock bordering on doom, and their debut record “Almost There” recounts the trials and tribulations of battling anorexia nervosa and the physical and psychological manifestations that come with dealing with that disorder. The darkness, hopelessness, and weakness that goes with such a struggle is woven into the music, and the band—vocalist Elise Aranguren, Emil Svensson, Michal Kielbasa—transform that into a world of wondrous sonic exploration that tries to tunnel its way into a means of finally finding oneself.
“Walk to Derealization” is a fantastical intro and opener, serene and dreamy sounds mixing together, heading into “Silverstone” where guitars drop gold dust, and the tempo starts pounding. Aranguren’s singing soars and digs in, feeling jarring and powerful, gushing into the shadows. The playing bursts as the singing sweeps, Aranguren continually calling, “Which part of you?” “Hypoesthesia” is the longest track, running 10:29 and unfurling cold and fog, the singing stretching toward the sky. A gazey flow increases, soft singing ringing in the air, Aranguren’s enrapturing voice making everything feel increasingly hypnotic. That’s when things take a strange turn toward the cosmos, sifting past the stars, going into reaches unexplored, hovering life a spacecraft until the end.
“Watching Them Feel” jars with sharp guitars and Aranguren calling into the sky, the leads shimmering out of time. The keys sheen as the singing surges, exploding with power as strings pulse, the energies rise, and the sound burns off into the distance. “Dance So I Can” runs 7:25, and organs swell, the power jolting and tingling, the pressure coming on and warping the senses. Weird, almost circus-like synth layers, making the room spin, and then the guitars add a jolt of electricity, strings gliding playfully. The singing cascades as the keys drip, dissolving into the earth. “J’y Suis Presque” lands with acidic guitars and gazey fire gushing, Aranguren’s hushed words in French as if she’s whispering it in your ear. A storm cloud hangs overhead, dark and ominous, causing chills to spark shivering, sounds rushing into the atmosphere. Closer “There” swells as strange ambiance fills your head, noises zap, and you’re immersed in a dream world. Drips of sound shake and pierce your imagination, slowly disappearing into the frost.
The darkness and disillusion are thick and apparent on “Almost There,” events and emotions that have become far too common for so many of us. Livgone capture the struggle with one’s emotions and inner turmoil and make that despair something one can address with cosmic sounds and the chance to try to heal. This record manages to stand alone musically and philosophically in the heavy music world, and while it’s a product of pain and torment, it’s also a beacon hope in the relentless fog.
For more on the band, go here: https://www.facebook.com/livgoneofficial/
To buy the album, go here: https://www.svartrecords.com/en/product/livgone-almost-there/12037
For more on the label, go here: https://www.svartrecords.com/en
Meat Mead Metal 