Are you exhausted yet? It’s still February? I don’t know how practical it is to think of the next four years and imagine a way to escape relatively unscathed mentally. We’re full bore into the most obvious coup ever, and the normal ugliness has reared its head with these people. It’s easy for me to be drained as a mere spectator. So many people already have and will suffer unnecessarily just based on hatred toward different from them.
On “Ruby Red,” the 10th album from long-running neoclassical/folk band Amber Asylum, the evil surrounding us gets put under the microscope. This is musically and thematically one of their darkest records ever, and they ideally soundtrack the era in which we’re forced. Over seven tracks and 40 minutes, the band—Kris Force (viola, violin, synth, vocals), Jackie Perez–Gratz (cello, vocals), Fern Lee Alberts (bass), Becky Hawk (percussion, vocals)—focuses on societal upheaval, war, human rights, and the constant threat to women’s freedom and power. It’s frustrating to keep seeing the same fascist bullshit happen again and again, and while the music here is gorgeous and haunting, the pain and the anger can be felt radiating through every second of this mesmerizing record.
“Secrets” is an opening instrumental piece, strings scraping over dour tension, shadows sweeping the agony of the ages underfoot. The playing picks up and further enraptures, blood surging as strings flex, emotions blare, and the final moments mix into the mirage. The title track has bass slinking and the singing fluttering, plodding as foreboding images spark your brain. The playing quivers as drums echo, bathing in total darkness, sweltering once more before burning off. “Demagogue” has dread setting the stage as the strings respond in kind, the singing hovering over mournful passages. The playing sinks in its teeth and rows over waves into quieter terrain, lapping and coating with numbing effect. “The Morrigan,” named after the Celtic goddess of war, death, and fate, streaks into sight, the layers thickening, cloud cover growing impenetrable. The melodies get tougher and more menacing, energy swirling with drama, slipping behind visions that dash blood at the end of this instrumental.
“Azure” dawns in a strange electric haze, threatening drone chaos as the cello pushes off, the singing swelling and radiating in echo. The haunting haze thickens as the bass picks up and adds ominous tones, the strings ache, and feral cries ring out, feedback dining on flesh left over on bone. “Weaver” feels like a dream state at first, doomy melodies washing over long festering wounds, wordless calls pulling with might for a semblance of control. The playing blends deeper with the impending doom, drizzling dank colors before disappearing into oblivion. Closer “A Call on the Wind” has the singing hovering, ghostly strains lingering, the bass plodding through a surreal reality. Sounds clash as the strings layer, the drums drive harder, and the singing reverberates, sending tingles through your nervous system. The energy flutters as anxiety spikes, pushing loud, pulsing drums into your heart before fading away.
“Ruby Red” finds us in one of our most perilous times, and the plight of our world that already was a thorny road looks to be getting blood soaked all over again. It’s frustrating and infuriating, and while Amber Asylum deliver the fitting amount of despair, they also provide pinholes of hope that light can shine through. We all face harrowing times, some more deeply than others, and music like this stands as both defiance and potential optimism for a world in turmoil.
For more on the band, go here: https://amber-asylum.bandcamp.com/
To buy the album, go here: https://us.spkr.media/us/Artists/Amber-Asylum/
For more on the label, go here: https://en.prophecy.de/

