Some Days Are Darker smolder with noir intensity on intimate debut LP
Some Days Are Darker smolder with noir intensity on intimate debut LP
From the sun-baked expanse of Phoenix comes the deliciously umbral debut LP from Some Days Are Darker, a gothic romance rendered with the fatal attraction of noir cinema and emblematic of the high-contrast coexistence of darkness and light. While supported by regular players, Some Days Are Darker is essentially a solo project, conjuring into words and music songwriter Lear Mason’s innermost emotions with a level of vulnerability unlike any of his earlier metalcore projects but equally intense. The result is mature and nuanced, drawing a great deal of inspiration from pioneering alternative bands like Depeche Mode and Placebo but foregoing those stadium-sized sounds in favor of an exquisitely produced presentation that feels more akin to the intimacy of a private, late-night confession.
Companionship, or the lack thereof, is a central theme across the album’s track list; a desire for meaningful connection as armor against the terrifying vacuum of loneliness. Some Days Are Darker embraces this thematic commonality, celebrating the romance of companionship in a manner that allows the entirety of existence to fall away for a moment, a lifetime, an eternity entwined in the arms of a lover. Much like Jim Jarmusch’s modern noir Only Lovers Left Alive, Some Days Are Darker inhabits a world that exists entirely within the shadows of the night and anchors its narrative on the orbiting oscillations of two intrinsically connected entities grasping tightly to each other amidst the quietly crumbing foundations of the outside world. The bleakness of reality and the overwhelming weight of impending hopelessness is powerless in the face of true love, and although darkness may ultimately consume all in its path, Some Days Are Darker relishes in the fact that even after the passions of life have cooled two matched souls will continue, immortal as one within the void.
Such a complete commitment to this level of intimacy runs the risk of derailing into the saccharine, but Some Days Are Darker skillfully avoids this fate through Mason’s songwriting that never breaks the fourth wall, keeping the listener enraptured but at arm’s length, voyeuristically bearing witness to cinematic romances both idealized and imperfect, each of them impeccably performed. Mason stalks his twilight mausoleum like a wounded vampire, sequestered within the gothic constructs of his own psyche, reaching out across oceans of time to find the Perfect One, a partner with which to share the immeasurable beauty of the infinite. Even as tapestries of sound hang from the imperceptibly lofty buttresses soaring above, their peaks concealed in velvet blackness, Some Days Are Darker never loses itself in hollow gestures of theatricality, maintaining a tight focus on the tiny details that bring a scene to life. The swirl of brandy in a glass, glowing embers released upwards from the crackling of a fire, the rush of goosebumps in the moment before a kiss; these are the kind of elements that make Some Days Are Darker so compelling a listen.
From the opening lines of “Glitterbomb,” Some Days Are Darker lays out its manifesto: “alternatives to love, death and drugs.” The concept that the only substitute for the potency of love is self-destruction carries throughout the album, even as Mason acknowledges the fact that love itself can be just as deadly a poison when injected with careless abandon. But the risks justify the reward, as “Blood In The Ink” blurs the lines between the very substance that symbolizes life and the written words on the page, drenched in reverb and celebrating the overwhelming power of desire blossoming into a black-petaled rose of mutual adoration. It is fitting that sonically Some Days Are Darker often hews closely to the textural arrangements crafted by Jozef Van Wissem for the score of Only Lovers Left Alive, most notably on “Out Of Focus.” A spartan, exotic guitar intro transports the track beyond the constraints of time and space, expanding into subtle waves of distortion on the line “we are the golden ones” before settling back into the original groove with contemplative ease and transitioning into the closer, “Ravenous.” At the very end of the album Some Days Are Darker finally cut loose, expanding beyond the frame to deliver a breathtaking widescreen composition that ebbs and flows from shadowy goth-rock to mesmerizing orchestration, a fittingly epic final act to a near perfect narrative arc.
It’s rare to experience an album that is purposefully personal but immediately accessible. Some Days Are Darker is indeed a monologue, composed for the intent of expressing oneself to a specific other but written with such plainspoken honesty that it is easy for the listener to be drawn into these private moments as if watching a grand romance unfold on the screen in an empty theater. These feelings are universal and hold within the words and chords and spaces in between an abundance of emotion; a celebration of life, of love, and of death that we all experience each in our own beautiful ways.
I've partnered with Some Days Are Darker to give away a copy of their exceptional debut LP on limited black vinyl. Like the following post on Instagram and follow @theedadrock.blog and @somedaysaredarker to enter. Tag friends in the comments for bonus entries. Winner will be selected at random on 6/16. US residents only. Good luck!
Some Days Are Darker is available now on limited vinyl here. Stream the album on Spotify and follow Some Days Are Darker on Instagram.