Bread And Jam For Frances
Switchblade Symphony
Cleopatra
Gothic Music: Dead and Thriving
By Beth Winegarner
When Switchblade Symphony's debut album, Serpentine Gallery, was released in 1995, it caught the Gothic world completely off guard. Most folks thought the gloom and doom genre had gone the way of Andrew Eldritch's integrity (once Sisters of Mercy appeared on MTV, it was over). And then something happened: Two ladies from San Francisco recorded an album of dark airs and fairy tales gone gory. Suddenly the dead were on their feet again.
Aside from reviving the Goth scene in the San Francisco area, Switchblade Symphony--along with acts such as Marilyn Manson and Rasputina--has helped bring the genre into public favor. The band just released its much- anticipated follow-up, Bread and Jam for Frances. Although the record introduces several new sounds and atmospheres, overall it reinforces the band's dedication to dark theatrics and sinister play.
Vocalist Tina Root, keyboardist Susan Wallace, guitarist George Earth (who replaces Robin Jacobs), and percussionist Eric Gebow come together to formulate an elegantly spooky series of fables. The album opens with the taunting "Witches," framed by Root's sinister vocal: "Witches they ride on broomsticks ya know/Angels use wings to catch the wind blow...Skeletons writhe, they glow in the night/Goblins and tramps do their wicked dance." Alone, the lyrics might seem adolescent, but paired with Wallace's synth tricks and Earth's almost-Spanish guitar, the song is downright fun--like masquerading on a crisp October evening.
Switchblade Symphony indulges in better production work this time around, and the result is a more complex album than Serpentine Gallery. Root's voice is layered dramatically in several places, such as in the choruses of "Dirty Dog" and "Soldiers," as well as in segments of "Funnel." Likewise, Wallace's musical structures wander easily through fields of dance, industrial, art rock, and cabaret--places where other artists might trip land mines. And in a crowning touch, the group brings a unique element to the Gothic theme: scratching.
The combinations don't always work, but when they do, it's easy to understand why Switchblade Symphony has been called the most popular Goth band in America. Melancholy musings--say, those in "Roller Coaster" and "Sleep"--are as gorgeous as anything penned by Dead Can Dance or Siouxsie and the Banshees. Root's voice is remarkably versatile; one minute she's cackling like an old hag, the next she's belting notes like a torch goddess. Her operatic episodes are both gravely theatrical and deliciously campy.
"Sleep" opens with a light harpsichord melody and Root's wistful lyric: "I don't feel good/I don't look good/I don't sound/I wish I was right/I watch you sleep away the time." It's a traditional Goth melody, comforting in its listlessness. Not to be outdone, "Funnel" follows on its heels with a heavy industrial rhythm fit for head-banging.
Although some of Switchblade Symphony's themes stay on the playful side, others take an unflinching look at life's more disturbing realities. In "Funnel," heavy melodies surround lyrics that could, in this antidepressant-dependent age, apply to nearly anyone: "She takes medicine medicine every damn day/For she thinks she is sick/She was brought up that way." In "Sheep," a traditional children's tale takes on the quality of a warning about society's dangers. "Where are my little little lambs?/Please mister, if you see them/They're missing/Won't you help them find their way...before the wolves find them first?"
A few tracks exist mainly to demonstrate the full spectrum of the spectral band's style. In "Situation #58," we eavesdrop on an old man who's ranting about "Boils and sleepwalkers and backs and widows and humans and pets and demons and demons and demons...." The carnivalesque waltz of "Sick Mary" is eerie enough on its own, but followed by the broken toy guitar riffs and the baby wailing in "Episode G15," these closing songs are enough to give a listener nightmares.
Switchblade Symphony is not for everyone, but certain elements of Bread and Jam for Frances will appeal to even those who don't wear velvet. As for those who do, this group clears a path around the tombstones for new Goth bands to follow.
This article was originally published in Addicted to Noise.