Music Review: The Antlers - "Hospice"

Hospice is one of those odd things in the entertainment world that is simultaneously a positive and negative experience. When I first listened to it, my immediate reaction was to compare it to Requiem For A Dream. Exceedingly well-made, artistically, and fascinating to experience. At the same time, unbelievably draining on an emotional level. The kind of thing you need to be mentally prepared for before watching. In the immortal words of Marty McFly, "Heavy." Don't get me wrong, it's probably the best album I've heard in the past year, and The Antlers are well on their way to being my favorite band because of it. I'm just saying it's not an album one should enter lightly.

More after the jump!

The Antlers are a Brooklyn-based group started by Peter Silberman in 2006. Originally a solo effort, Silberman has since added Michael Lerner and Darby Cicci to round out the group. Hospice is the band's third album, initially self-released but later remastered once the band signed to Frenchkiss Records. It is a concept album, and the story it tells is heart-wrenching: it is the tale of a hospice employee who falls in love with a terminally-ill cancer patient, and enduring the subsequent depressing events one might expect from that setup.

There has been much debate regarding the "meaning" of the album, and the band is not clamoring to answer questions. It is known that the songs were written entirely by Silberman after a two-year period of self-imposed social isolation, and that the overall story is about an emotionally abusive relationship. Silberman has stated that the cancer aspect of the story can be viewed literally or, symbolically, as a metaphor for the disintegration of a relationship. Silberman has not discussed in detail just how much of the album is autobiographical, but has implied through various interviews that at least a few significant portions of it are drawn from his own experiences.



One of my favorite things in a musician is the ability to train the audience to expect a specific sound from them, and then overturn those expectations when the time is right. Silberman is an excellent example of this. He does not have an excellent voice in the traditional sense, but for the majority of the album, his gentle falsetto brings an dreamlike, otherworldly feel to the lyrics. The rest of the album, that non-majority portion, is occupied by moments of intensity. He screams, not like a hardcore or metal band, but in the manner of someone reliving their greatest regrets. An internal, emotional scream made external. Even without reading interviews, it's easy to assume that this man has a profound personal connection to the story he is performing for the world. His voice may not be for everyone, but going in with an open mind and an appreciation for unique sound will do wonders.



Vocals aside, the album is extremely engaging. The songs have a way of evolving as they play, so that by the end, it bears only a subtle resemblance to the song you started listening to. The trio does very interesting things with sound, as well - a song may have an identifiable piano riff, but it will be accompanied by a guitar distorted almost to the point of being nothing but percussion, as well as unknown ethereal noises, intentional fuzz and feedback, even occasional trumpets. Normally I am not one for "noise" based music because I find it too busy, and the cacophony may entirely replace any semblance of melody. The Antlers, however, have found an excellent balance. I saw them in person recently, and I was surprised to see that Silberman's guitar never actually had any part in any song's melody - that was entirely handled by the keyboard. Silberman used his guitar solely to produce background sounds by manipulating the instrument, the amplifier, and a series of effects pedals. Really interesting to watch.



The lyrics, by the way, are some of the most poignant I have ever heard. They cover a wide stylistic range, sounding sometimes like a casual cynical remark - "...And all the while I'll know we're fucked, and not getting unfucked soon" - and sometimes like poetic verse - "Something in my throat made my next words shake / and something in the wires made the lightbulbs break / there was glass inside my feet and raining down from the ceiling / it opened up the scars that had just finished healing." And yet, somehow, they all come off equally earnest, and I find myself not thinking about how a certain line is melodramatic and overwrought (though it may well be), but about how incredible it is that same line expresses just how a person might feel during this series of increasingly tragic events. Without the story that drives this concept album, some of the lyrics might come off as over-the-top. Alongside the story, however, they simply feel like a heart laid bare, no feelings held back. I recommend listening to the entirety of Hospice in one sitting, with the liner notes open in front of you so that you can capture every delicate detail of the album's story arc. It's difficult, but it's worth it.