Current 93 – If A City Is Set Upon A Hill

HomAleph

As much as I still enjoy the ‘”ded ded ded” years and esoteric tsunamis of yore, the warm melancholia of this latest offering is melting firmly in there, clawing a cottoned reflective that’s the perfect late night accompaniment to some moonlit Bordeaux.

The butterflying bleed of the opening “If A City…”, a sombre sway pinned in stilted piano. Sparse keys striding between David Tibet’s words which weave a Light Leaving Us All’ softness, a rounded acceptance that milks an impermanence, the jewel-encrusted prism of journey’s end.

A beautiful sadness scenically torn from the English Countryside, salted by Tibet’s splintering words, the folksy acoustic backing gathering around this with understated flourishes of electronics, seductively clinging to infinite sadness of it all.

A bucolic bloom that puppets an intimate magnetism, brambles your head with conviction. The softly coloured rain of “No Zodiac” and its autumnal heart full of medieval flavours and staccato spires, Tibet pushing the picturesque into uncertain hues, dropping cryptic clues amongst the headstones as you catch yourself humming along.

Deeply addictive melodics that “Joke Moons”‘ lullabying embers alchemically spin out on in “Sulphur and ebony, tamarisk and clay”, metaphorically jigsawing a glistening glow of a bronzed sun, “the snake in the cracked crown” and a homicidal Peter Pan. You’re unpacking a lot, getting trapped in possible meanings, all part of the Current 93 charm, I’d say.

The symbolism swoons, thematically flaunts with the biblical allegory of its title, then cherries some. ‘The codes in the stars are the codes in your arms”, he goes as the lyrics resonate, taper a tangled intrigue. The romancing details of “Clouds At Teatime” that diaristically dart (chiffoned in a backdrop of chorusing voices), shine a light on the personal, all fairytale-snatched in a genteel waltz of sadness and joy.

The dulcimer-hooked “A Column Of Dust” taking you to the “Final Express Train … Drink dark those low skies you made”, he goes as judgment is called. I stare at the murderous cover crossed out in crooked red, its cognitive candy seeming to bleed into the Blazing Starre-like meditations of “The Child And Fire”, skipping the sunset to sleep as the colourful cartoons are covered in sores. Totally loving this track, so many magical touch points triangulating its bare piano and harmonic underlings, the sinewed violin drifting down a late evening lane to who knows where.

That eerie electronic intro of the final track “…Is Set Upon A Hill” is overtaken by a slow stumbling guitar and violin combo that trickles through the words, whilst “the witches whirl around”, all exiting to distant operatics.

Rumours are this is the last Current 93 album, and if true, they’ve definitely achieved a lasting epitaph.

-Michael Rodham-Heaps-