Few bands have made a first impression quite like Esben and the Witch. After a pair of limited-release EPs, the Brighton trio created immense anticipation for their Matador debut LP with the video for Violet Cries’ lead single, “Marching Song”. Simply constructed of tight shots on each band member against a grey backdrop, an unbearable intensity is developed over the course of the four-minute video. As the song progresses, the band is shown in increasingly battered states—as the black eyes and bloody lips increase, the carnage moves far beyond what the viewer would ever imagine being shown in a music video. It is by far, one of the most disturbing (and engaging) clips I have seen in quite some time.
A video like this would normally serve as an otherwise decent strategy for creating marketing buzz, if it wasn’t for the fact that “Marching Song” is such a damn fine track. Against a thunderous drumbeat and a wall of guitars, lead singer Rachel Davies wails a vehement call to arms that only grows more urgent as the song moves along. Think ( )-era Sigur Rós as fronted by Siouxsie Sioux—it’s just that good. Unfortunately for Esben and the Witch, Violet Cries does not consistently live up to the hype and maturity of “Marching Song”; perhaps it would be asking too much of any artist to live up to that very task. While the band shows a great ability to create atmosphere, Violet Cries falls short on the tracks that seem to rest on that exact laurel. Songs like “Light Streams”, “Hexagons IV”, and “Chorea” are evocative without being terribly interesting—with echoing guitars and muted drums weaving in and out of the texture. Davies doesn’t match the fury of the lead single at any point, and eventually the meandering ideas create an overall lack of cohesion.
Luckily, the front and back ends of Violet Cries combine the best of Esben and the Witch’s style with substantive song structure. Opening track “Argyria” slowly builds in both volume and texture, eventually erupting into full-blown prog-rock glory. Like “Marching Song” and the final minutes of “Eumenides”, the height of the crescendo is so sweeping, the intensity so strong that there is nowhere to go but into near-silence: the band regularly makes it a point to push their listener off the sonic cliff, only to quietly cradle them with the iciness of Davies’ voice. In the second half of “Argyria”, as with album-closer “Swans”, this hush is created in washes of guitar arpeggios and choruses of layered vocals. Hovering above these sounds, Davies takes center stage, shaping her ghostly vocal lines with incredibly dramatic intensity. The lyrics are rife with gothic references—metallic voices, ether, and the bellowing of black swans—emblematic of the dark and murderous Danish fairy tale the band takes their name from.
Esben and the Witch display a strong conviction regarding their sound and aesthetic—quite a confident step for a young band to make on their debut. Only time will tell if they can find their way through their murky atmospheres, hopefully finding a way to ratchet up the intensity over the course of an entire cycle of songs on their next album.
Track List:
1. Argyria
2. Marching Song
3. Marine Fields Glow
4. Light Streams
5. Hexagons IV
6. Chorea
7. Warpath
8. Battlecry/Mimicry
9. Eumenides
10. Swans
