Swans - To Be Kind

May 12th, 2014.

Young God

Swans thirteenth studio album would continue the comeback which 'My Father Will Guide Me Up a Rope to the Sky' began at the start of the decade. Gira and co. strapped on their sour smiles and hypnotically induced a swelling of the soul. To Be Kind is a record of monolithic proportions. This should be old news to those that have ventured down the path of a Swans record before; monolithic being a go-to synonym for Swans output. Records of this stature are a rare breed. 

On the receiving end of a crushing weight. Your insides twist and turn; eyes bulge; teeth crack and detonate; toes curl infinitely inwards. No chance to undo what's done. The chicken's have come home to roost. And roost they will. A seething, sinister grin plastered across an uncaring puss. Teeth just visible behind pursed lips. The worst intentions for all. The belly of the beast will churn you out; chew you up and spit you the fuck out. Unlovable at birth. Unwanted. A burning burden. A ship-wrecked cause. Sleepwalk towards the end. Drowned out by droning ideas of a sleepy stance - lamenting on a never-ending stream. Slumped up. Slapped down. 

'There are millions and millions of stars, in your eyes.' A beautiful sentiment turned sour by the scathing tongue of Gira. The man could turn water into vinegar. Inhale just deep enough and you may feel your lungs fill. The first breath being the deepest; the last, the steepest. Your last breath being the sharpest inhale that you'll ever pull on. The breathe that you set sail on. Over the hill and far away. Over and out. Adios. Sayonara. 

Dosing on a daydream. Living in wonderland.

‘No pain. No now. No time. No here. No knife. No mind. No hand. No hear. ‘