AVOIDING THE LIGHT: Project Dark. |
| ...And It Was Black + Director’s Cut | Released by Project Dark collaborators | on Milled Pavement Records |
The last time DJ/producer/label head Moshe appeared in this column, it was posited he had “raised dark and gloomy to a hip-hop art form,” which I meant as a compliment. As a purveyor of his own kind of goth-hop (goth-tronica?), there is no mistaking a Moshe track, full of deep fuzzy synths, half-time beats, and disconcerting samples that are just as Romantic as that new By Blood Alone album.Now, with partner KGB/Syn the Shaman, he has found his calling with Project Dark’s ...And It Was Black, a 13-track concept album of sorts that shows that minimalist production paired with cogent and crisply delivered lyrics can effect a very interesting piece of art/music, indeed.
Central to the album is a spiraling narrative lifted from/referencing the thirtysomething cult classic River’s Edge, which not only stars Keanu Reeves, but also tells the charming tale of a guy who’s killed his girlfriend for “talking shit” and is reveling in showing off her dead body to his buddies (while they get stoned, if I recall correctly). Somehow, this material both suits Project Dark’s musical intentions and allows them get fairly deep.
The first track allows us voyeuristic entrance to an argument that gets rather heated, though our protagonist has done little more than wake his gal up: “I said I’m fucking sorry/You don’t have to act this way/But I see how you are/Overdramatic basket case.” On top of Moshe’s languid keyboard line, KGB anchors the track with a delivery that’s monotone and methodical, setting the tone for an album that will proceed to feature an emotional detachment and destruction always personified by his half-rap/half-drone.
By “Practice Makes Perfect Sense,” Project Dark are past the murder and considering the consequences. KGB’s voice is resigned, but with a hint of sing-song, which is all the more creepy, amped up by Moshe’s crazed samples like Hitchcock’s birds chirping. “I should have used a chain, maybe a few bricks,” we’re told, as the body floats. “You’re floating to your grave, and I’ll miss you.” Just as River’s Edge sought to comment on the broken nature of a generation (see Less than Zero for the rich people’s version), here Project Dark seem to mock the it’s-not-my-fault generation, as though actions they commit are completely beyond their control.
This disassociation is paired with an intense self-loathing and -pitying that’s impressive. “The Funeral” opens with a riff on Chopin’s Piano Sonata No. 2 in B-flat minor, Op. 35 (the “Funeral March,” of course) accompanied by a soft conga beat and a plodding snare. Then KGB just internalized everything: “Now everything’s ruined/Just blame it on me ... I’ll drive you crazy/And I’ll make you hate me ... Just like a disease/And there’s no way to treat it.” It is an exploration into what it is to be dark, what makes us dark, what makes some of us fear it, some of us embrace it, and some of us embody it.
In KGB’s case, he has no choice. “I’ll never walk away,” he exhales, “because I’m addicted to the pain.”
