Katatonia - Last Fair Deal Gone Down

Melancholy is the damndest thing - keep it inside and it's a dark and poignant art, try to express it, and it becomes rubbish. It's all about subjectivity of course, and what's truly deep and melancholic for one may very well be a sterile and tepid mess for another. So, to put it into the immortal words of Radiohead - "don't talk sentimental - it always ends up drivel." You'd think that with that big an obstacle in the way, most bands would shy away from trying to become that one sole exception to the rule, lest they stumble and fall, and......well, you'd be wrong. As it is, for every band that does a half decent job of showing their moody side, there are dozens more just as eager to jump on the same boat. Unfortunately most of those other bands are stuck with the forlorn idea that merely playing slow as molasses dirge music is all it takes to invoke all those dark and powerful emotions from the listener. And that idea is about as good as their music, which is to say, not very.

Sweden's Katatonia doesn't really reside in either of the two camps. If you've already peeked at the rating, you can safely tell that they are not in the latter category. But then they are not exactly the former either. Transcending - or perhaps altogether sidestepping - the boundaries of what you would typically expect from dark, morose, and emotive music, Katatonia is decidedly their own, one of a kind beast. The melancholy in their tunes is so finely crafted and integrated that it seems as much an instrument as the guitars and bass. In fact I am even hard pressed to call it mere melancholy, since the feelings the band exhibits are so inescapably real...so pure. The anguish and despair are all there - but they reside on this strange, uncustomary plain. The band is certainly not upbeat, and they certainly are quite depressing, and yet the music does not leave you feeling down. Really, the most fitting description of the its effect would be along the lines of cathartic. All the expected unhappy themes find their way here - alienation, isolation, loss of hope, condemnation, betrayal, dispossession (look at track #1, for instance), and generally all sorts of life's little and not so little deals going waaaaay down. However while these would normally aim to send the listener on a trip to the bummed out state of somewhere down in the dumps, here they end up being almost enriching. Whether it be through the enlightenment of "hey, I never looked at it like that," or the always helpful "at least someone has it worse than me," Katatonia definitely finds those right spectra of negative emotions, and does their absolute best to present them in a most befitting light.

It's all about the approach. Whatever their methods seem to be, the end result is always brilliant for the simple reason that Katatonia refuses to bow down to their vast assortment of demons. Rather - and somehow - they get their melancholic demons to bow down to them. Thus the band is able to infuse the miserable feelings of inescapable sadness with catchy riffs, energetic rhythms, melodies with more hooks than a chain of bait stores, and the occasional dabs in electronica, all without missing a single downtrodden step. And speaking of the music, Katatonia's thankfully has no fixation on any one particular genre; basically a crossover, if you will, taking the general feel of some of its fellow Peaceville bands (i.e. Paradise Lost and Anathema), and mixing in elements of grunge, alternative rock, and pop - all distorted beyond any means of recognition. In the end it becomes a very identifiable sound, and definitely Katatonia's own. Add to that the band's penchant for trying new and different things - sparse electronics and some Tool-ish grooves, for instance - and I'm happy to say that the spirit of experimentation is alive and well in Katatonia, even if it does happen to be coated with all sorts of wretchedness and despair.

And seeing as how the unhappy approach is the band's forte, it certainly doesn't hurt that Jonas Renkse, complete with his assured, though somewhat unflinching baritone, embodies the very essence of melancholy - a character as bitter as he is resigned to life's one simple, one utterly shocking truth - that there is no light at the end of the tunnel. While I do not necessarily find myself in full or even partial agreement, credit must be given to Katatonia for presenting their bleak vision with intelligence, style, and above all, wit, all the while not hampering or brutally overstating the matter as do a lot of their more doom oriented brethren. As Jonas broods over the nightmarish "anecdotes" of the decrepit travail that is everyday life, Katatonia exhibits their most profound knowledge and understanding of their themes and topics, all usually centered on depression in all its shapes and sizes. Yes, they wallow in it, but they do it with a certain skill and finesse that sounds neither banal nor overly melodramatic. This is the music (and voice) of painful experience, and even if you don't happen to see a reflection of yourself there somewhere, you are still taken along for one heck of an emotion-laden ride.

Just listen to the absolutely wrenching I Transpire, a song of total resignation, with its ironically impassioned chorus, or the electronically tinged We Must Bury You, or the fiery The Future of Speech, complete with one of the coolest ever uses of processed vocals, or the pseudo-hallucinogenic (or symbolic, if you will) Sweet Nurse, which happens to be simply one of the catchiest songs on this planet and parts of Jupiter; listen to those and just try and not feel at least a fraction of what the band so clearly feels. This is true mood music in every sense of the word, and Katatonia deserves the absolute highest kudos for being able to share their 'bummed-outedness' with the rest of the world, all without coming off as even marginally trite or pretentious. A rare ability that is.

When it comes right down to it, Katatonia is - ironically and all - that shiny gem amid its bleak and barren surroundings. Or maybe they are the bleak and faded shard of glass amidst the bright and tranquil surroundings. But in a good way. Yep. Bottom line - lifelessness never sounded so lively and alive. Jonas and crew have certainly traversed some of life's darker roads. Give them this chance to reflect on it - there is some absolutely stellar music in it for you.

9.0
"...there is no way I am going to be free
because their hearts, they are similar to mine
there is no way they are going to release me
from this chain of vows into our own hearts..."

Review by Ilya Ulberg

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