The L-Shaped Man
- CD €14.00
- BLACK VINYL LP €21.00
- SEAFOAM VINYL LP €21.00
Breakup albums mark a turning point for a band: the moment when their sound completely changes and reaches a new level of emotional clarity. All that heartbreak and malaise condensed into any single record often makes for a defining piece of work, no matter the genre. The best records explore the nooks and crannies of sadness, learning it inside and out ‚Äî celebrating it.
Ceremony‚Äôs fifth studio album,¬†The L-Shaped Man, uses singer Ross Farrar‚Äôs recent breakup as a platform to explore loneliness and emotional weariness, but it is by no means a purely sad album. Rather than look inward, Farrar uses his experience to write about what it means to go through something heavy and come out the other side a different person.
In order to tell Farrar's story, Ceremony have almost completely stripped back the propulsive hardcore of their previous records, turning every angry outburst into simmering despair. ‚ÄúWe‚Äôve always tried to be minimalists in writing, even if it‚Äôs loud or fast or abrasive,‚Äù says lead guitarist Anthony Anzaldo. ‚ÄúIt‚Äôs really intense when I hear it. Not in a¬†way where you turn everything up to ten. Things are so bare, you‚Äôre holding this one note for so long and you don‚Äôt now where it‚Äôs going‚Äîto me, that‚Äôs intensity.‚Äù¬†That intensity is apparent on ‚ÄúExit Fears,‚Äù the first full song on the record. It meticulously pairs Justin Davis‚Äô loping bass line, which pulls the track along, with Anzaldo's icy, minimal guitar work. It brings to mind some alternate version of Joy Division that hasn‚Äôt quite lost all hope. It gets close to exploding, but instead plays the shadows, never quite rising above a nervous simmer.
‚ÄúA lot of the content has to do with loss, and specifically the loss of someone who you care deeply about,‚Äù Farrar says. ‚ÄúThere is no way for you to go through something like this artistically and not have really strong emotions of loss and pain. There‚Äôs not really any way to hide that.‚Äù¬†Farrar, for his part, is singing with a new kind of intensity, his baritone swooping and retreating from stressed angst to unsettling near-mutter as he sings, ‚ÄúYou told your friends you were fine/ you thought you were fine too‚Ä¶‚Äù and later, ‚Äúnothing is ever fine/ nothing ever feels right/ you have to tell yourself you tried.‚Äù It‚Äôs the first of many lyrically direct moments, and it should be hard to listen to, but Ceremony have so effortlessly nailed the sound of sadness that it feels great to live inside for awhile.
The sound is abetted by producer John Reis, who honed his sound in seminal bands like Rocket from the Crypt, Drive Like Jehu, and Hot Snakes. Much of the gravelly aggression he experimented with in those bands is present on¬†The L-Shaped Man.
There's a story behind the title too. ‚ÄúI was speaking to our driver Stephen while on tour,‚Äù Farrar says. ‚ÄúWe were talking about men in general and what shape they are‚Ä¶their body type. I said, ‚ÄòI guess men are in the shape of an L. The torso is straight. Vertical. And then you have the little feet at the end.‚Äô There‚Äôs this painter named Leslie Lerner who was living in San Francisco in the ‚Äò70s and ‚Äò80s and made these beautiful paintings. He died on my 21st birthday. A lot of the record is about the similarities in our ideas. In what we‚Äôre trying to make. Things that have to do with love and losing love.‚Äù