Monday, March 13, 2006

My Bloody Valentine - Loveless (Sire; 1991)

The next album in this series is maybe the last to be included in my collective of favorite albums. My Bloody Valentine released Loveless in 1991 (which means I was only about 9 years old and completely unaware that such music existed). The group defines shoe-gazing dream pop on this, their masterpiece and, ultimately, their swan song. Listening to Loveless for the first time is like accidentally figuring out how to control your dreams, allowing you to fly over the earth in a cloudy, “Care Bear” adventure. From up above in this mystical, heavenly landscape you can look down at the seemingly peaceful Earth and watch all the microscopic inhabitants go about their daily routines. Then, before you know it, your eyes open and you’re in your bed. But you’re not alone, not startled by an alarm clock. You’re awoken by your lover, who is gently brushing your hair and looking into your eyes. And that’s just in the album’s first 30 seconds.

There is a sense of mystery and wonder constantly present in My Bloody Valentine’s music. The vocals are often indiscernible and usually blend into the many layers of each song (and to my knowledge, there’s no credible source of the actual lyrics). However, the songs still manage to convey emotions and create pictures in your mind. The record requires many listens to hear everything incorporated into each work of art. Sometimes you’ll hear three or four overlapping, swaying guitars. Sometimes the synths stick out and other times it’s the eerie backing vocals. But with each listen you gain a greater sense of the tireless effort that went into making this album.

Each song carries its own weight as an individual exploration within the confines of this unique world the group has created. Each track is a bold experiment in sound, but the music is never imposing. What ultimately happens is up to the listener. The album opens with “Only Shallow,” and you’re immediately sucked into a world of lush, provocative sounds before you can really figure out what you’re listening to. “Come in Alone” just feels downright sexy. “Sometimes” is a standout track (and was perfectly placed in the film Lost in Translation). “Soon” is probably the strongest song on the record, with swooning guitars and clomping drums. In the end, words can’t describe Loveless, no matter hard one tries (which is probably a reason why most lyrics are inaudible). It is losing virginity, laying on the beach, running barefoot in the grass, rolling in the snow, spooning on a cold winter night, and a million other things all rolled into 11 tracks.

There really aren’t high or low points in the record. Every song is an experience to be had on its own, but fits perfectly into the overall mood. The group demonstrates a mastery of flow. You get drawn into a certain state of mind, but you don’t become numb. You start to understand. You understand the band, you understand music, you understand nature, you understand life. You also understand that the band might have been on some really wild drugs while making this album. Unfortunately, most people will never even be exposed to the treasure that is Loveless (except, for some odd reason, certain mid 90’s mainstream acts like the Smashing Pumpkins and Garbage). But even those who are exposed probably won’t take the time to see what it’s all about. However, those who do hear it and let it affect them will be forever changed. In just under an hour, you’ll be taken to a childhood summer day when you’re chasing kids in the park, then to a naked lover’s embrace in a big comfy bed…all while walking the fuzzy line between reality and dreams. Although the album has a somber name, Loveless is a testament to what is beautiful in life. Or even what could be beautiful and perfect, even if you don’t have it now. It’s a simultaneous display of hope and despair. And really, what is truer than that?

No comments: