Through This Fire Across From Peter Balkan (full cassette playback)
John Darnielle’s penchant for a concept album has already produced the likes of Beat the Champ (about wrestling), Bleed Out (action movies) and Goths (alternative music in his teens). Now, the 23rd Mountain Goats album tackles – but of course – the story of a small crew shipwrecked on a desert island in which the surviving members, including titular captain Peter Balkan, are plagued by “diminishing resources and apocalyptic visions”.
„At this moment in time it is my No. 12 of my favourite albums in 2025.. And it‘s a grower.“ (m.e.)
Nachdem ihm der Titel im Traum eingefallen war, hat Darnielle sich ganz schön ins Zeug gelegt, um all das zum Leben zu erwecken. Die Instrumentierung umfasst Klavier, Holzblasinstrumente, Streicher, Blechblasinstrumente und Harfe, und die Band bedient sich einer Palette von Genres, darunter Elektronik, symphonische Balladen, Prog und Powerpop. Das Ergebnis ähnelt ein wenig dem Soundtrack zu einem imaginären Musical, da die Songs einen narrativen Bogen spannen – ein Eindruck, der durch die Mitwirkung von Lin-Manuel Miranda als Backgroundsänger noch verstärkt wird.
Die Crew sticht fröhlich in See in dem schönen „Fishing Boat“ („frei wie die Brandung“) und stößt in „Cold at Night“ („am dritten Tag sagtest du, du fühlst dich krank“) auf Probleme. Darnielle ruft trotzig „Niemand hier wird allein sterben“ in dem hämmernden „Dawn of Revelation“ und schreibt in „Broken to Begin With“ gewissermaßen ihr Epitaph.
Dennoch ist dies kein düsteres Album. Es ist aufwendig produziert, voller Galgenhumor und – wie so viele von Darnielles besten Werken – offenbart es unter der Oberfläche tiefere Bedeutungsebenen über Menschlichkeit, Zusammengehörigkeit und die kostbaren Freuden des Lebens.
Dave Simpson, The Guardian
Ein Kommentar
flowworker
Its 2010 and I am sitting next to a youth pastor wearing the same sneakers as me. I’m there not on my own accord but because my dad doesn’t know what to do with me without my mom. Unlike many other religious figures and professionals, this one seems to get how jaded I am with people like him. He recommends I listen to „The Life of the World to Come“ and something clicks about empathy and universal love even if I do never become a Christian.
Its 2012 and I’m excitedly showing someone „Transcendental Youth“, and crooning to the Diaz Brothers finally off on my own and in my own apartment. A small pariah in the complex for the hours I keep, but soon enough I have friends that I got to choose for the first time. Someone excitely knocks on my door one night and points to „No Children“ playing in new The Walking Dead episode back when the seasons could be counted on one hand.
Its 2015 and I’m taking classes and life is a type of stressfulness I had never experienced before and I realized I enjoyed. Then „Beat the Champ“ comes out and between work and school, I realize that my interests are my own. Silly ones, immature ones, ones that really amount to nothing and hone no skill. They are me too. I can live life fast but does that come at the expense of living it authentically? No! No… No.
Its 2018 and I’ve graduated and found purchase in a job giving back. Its harder than I thought. And people talk about you like you did something weird. But the girl I text each night like „Goths“ too even though I have to explain some of the lyrics since English is like her third language. The first apartment was long ago and I have less friends and also some more friends but I’m not as busy and life still continues onward. I watch more movies because I finally have the time to. And I think it changes me for the better.
Its 2019 and a friend I met at school has a great deal on a new palce in the big city. The destination at the end of 100 even miles of highway now is withing reach and I can’t believe it. It would be more than I’ve spent on rent before and still it would be an incredible deal for the area. Once we move in I find out that he also plays dnd and for a campaign „In League with Dragons“ makes an appearance.
Its 2020 and the new place is now a prison as my work in the public sector exiles me from the office next to the prison and adjacent to the graveyard. The kitchen becomes my office. I wonder if I’m even helping people doing what I’m doing. When „Songs for Pierre Chuvin“ comes out I get a cassette player and listen to it in bed closing my eyes and thinking of pagan raiders ressurecting their ancient temple.
Its still 2020 and I slide across the wood of the main floor in my socks. I’ve gone insane and don’t put on pants any more for work which occures entirely through a screen still in the kitchen but who is now home to a spider companion. I dance around thinking of places to play Rat Queen from „Getting Into Knives“ – the music is produced into a radiant blossom of new sounds with the old sticking out proudly: stamen in the flower! New Dreams for the Rat Queeeeeen! Play those keys Matt!
Its 2021 and I’m hanging out at my friends apartment. She’s cool and her dog is just like her, shy but full of so much love that many might mistake for being just quiet. Her roommate listens to „Dark in Here“ on the record player and softness of the vynil is eartwarming as his dog (scooby) makes laps around the kitchen table. Hundreds at a time. The dog is an anxious little guy and I don’t think Parisian Enclave is his favorite. But it is mine.
Its 2023 and the world is different. And its hard not to be different in the same that it is outside. I don’t want to be bitter but it creeps in and eventually it does make more like it via osmosis. I start watching movies every day. It makes me feel more like me even when they are about things I never would think are me. Someone no longer here, holds my hand in the park and we sway to „Bleed Out“ Bleed Out.
Its 2024 and I am starting to see the edges of the paper get singed. I don’t think I’ll be able to stay in the big city forever even though my job has gotten better and my girlfriend has gotten further away. I don’t know where I am going but its still up and I don’t think I’ve been able to be who I want to be in a long time. I watch even more movies and try to get outside more. I travel. To new places that before hand I would think are far off. On a plane ride, to another plane ride, to a metro, to a hotel on a beach I listen to „Going to Dallas“ because one day I may go there to first go somewhere else far away.
Its 2025 and I’m living with my dad now. The paper’s been burnt up and I’m no longer in the city. I’m no longer in my relationship. I’m still in my job and yet no one I started working with is working with me any more. My dad is better. His cancer is gone perhaps for now. I am trying to live my life more authentically and there is a midden of camera equipment in my room from random things I’ve done. I dream of one day making movies. Movies that hundreds or maybe thousands of people see. I take time off work to work on actual movies. I watch a movie every day. I listen to „Through This Fire Across from Peter Balkan“ and the sexiest sax I’ve heard yet on Through the Fire drives me to a new type of crazy.
Aaron Chesterfield