Album Review: Black Dresses - Forever In Your Heart
“We’re no longer a band unfortunately. Regardless, we’ve decided to keep putting out music”. It’s difficult to not be cynical after reading the ersatz justification accompanying the latest spontaneously-dropped Black Dresses album, the closest we have to an explanation as to why the Toronto-based duo is once again putting out music less than a year after supposedly calling it quits for good in May of 2020. Part of the reason for the skepticism is that, unlike fractures born of personal disagreements or a loss of inspiration, the reasons cited by Black Dresses were all too valid: a constant stream of harassment directed at Devi McCallion (which only intensified following Black Dresses’ sudden spike in popularity) that left her and Ada Rook with no real choice but to distance themselves from an increasingly volatile fandom by any means necessary. The band’s relationship with their own fame has long been an uncomfortable one, and the solo projects released by both members last year indicated a chance to use the unfortunate reality of their decision to disband as fuel for their own separate (and equally promising) musical endeavours. Instead, they have ambiguously returned with a new record, one that offers a polished version of the duo’s unorthodox flair yet fails to evolve far enough past the initial constraints of their style. Forever In Your Heart finds Black Dresses in a limbo between ambitions, an uncertainty that ultimately does little harm to the music itself but nonetheless calls into question where exactly they plan on going from here.
Black Dresses are the latest inheritors of a post-modern approach to music production, one that seeks to find inspiration anywhere and everywhere and has little use for outmoded concepts like genre or accessibility. ‘Industrial’ or ‘noise’ would probably be the best catch-all terms for the tumult of styles present on Forever In Your Heart, but neither one narrows things down enough to be too useful. ‘Discordant’ is a more applicable descriptor of what this record actually sounds like, the most tangible through line that links the distorted electronics of Heaven, the chaotic industrial rock of Perfect Teeth, the aggressive glitch pop of Gone In An Instant, and a host of equally eccentric compositions. The album does not bother to disguise its anarchic intentions, at least; anyone who can stomach the forceful guitar and aberrant synthetic noise that drive the first couple tracks will likely find at least a handful of enjoyable moments before the record is over. To its credit, Forever In Your Heart actually starts off quite strong from a lyrical perspective, even if uninitiated listeners will presumably be too distracted by the cacophony to appreciate Black Dresses’ flair for abstract imagery (“The red sky fading in the distance/The peace sign burning in a vision from God”) and verbose expression (“Rock your body like a cattle plague/Endless, paralytic, stagnant uncertainty”).
When Black Dresses deign to show some restraint, the results are far less liable to come off as needlessly abrasive, even if the tamer cuts present here (Tiny Ball, We’ll Figure It Out) could hardly be called approachable. The growling bass of Bulldozer is oddly hypnotic at first (even if the refrain is still a bit much), yet the song refuses to evolve or progress in any meaningful way past its initial appeal; what could have functioned as a well-needed easing of tension in the tracklist ultimately fails to justify its existence. Black Dresses deserve credit for being able to create any sort of cohesion among the disjointed sonic patchwork that is Forever In Your Heart, but the shortcomings of their style are drawn into sharp focus whenever Ada and Devi’s dissonant vocals are forced into the spotlight, the repulsively saccharine Ragequitted and the melodic yet strained Silver Bells being particularly vexing examples. It’s a shame, too, because as the record continues, their singular manner of songwriting begins to bear more and more fruit, the narrative of Forever In Your Heart unfolding into an eruption of frustrated sincerity that culminates quite affectively: “I couldn’t keep it together/I couldn’t make it last/I couldn’t prove I was good/I wonder if anybody could”.
Cracks in their armor begin to appear, in the form of subdued tracks like Mistake and Tiny Ball (“And I know I’m grateful if someone tries at all/Still ends crumpled up/Scrunched up, like a tossed away love letter”) betraying an earnest desire for affection and acceptance buried underneath a fortress of aggression and irony. The subdued acoustics of Waiting42moro belie this longing the most, the disillusion of both members painfully evident in lyrics saturated with despair: “Pulling, yanking, dragging on a thread to heaven/I know if I try, I’ll just fuck it up worse than it is”. Even at its most deafening, the song doesn’t quite touch the same thread of rebellious fury as the rest of the record, and though their self-deprecating scorn is still present (“If I had an answer, you think I’d be singing it?”), the overall tone is one of desperate, vain conviction: “I can almost see/I can almost taste/I can almost touch that better place”. Delving deeper into the lyricism of this track and others, it isn’t difficult to understand why Black Dresses have resonated so profoundly with a nascent generation of music listeners; the band’s audience shares not only their immutable cynicism, but also the optimistic impulse to see the world as a better place than it is, even while knowing that to do so will likely mean getting hurt over and over again.
The dissolution and reformation of Black Dresses eclipses pretty much anything to come before in the history of temporary breakups à la LCD Soundsystem, and given how much shit that band got for only managing half a decade of inactivity, that so many are using the surprise release of Forever In Your Heart as an opportunity to dismiss or discredit the duo’s artistry is sadly all too predictable. But in a sense, it does feel as though the Black Dresses of yesteryear have gone though notable changes in the short time since what was to be their final album, if only in their attitude towards future releases under a name they clearly feel reluctant to let go of completely. Ada Rook and Devi McCallion continue to refine their talents with each new project, yet the intrinsic limitations of their preferred sound remain a constant impediment; for as many compelling themes as this record can boast of, too many are drowned in a miasma of electronic noise that only sometimes complements the band’s appreciable affinity for pathos. Even at its best, Forever In Your Heart asks too much of the listener to truly capture the greatness it is constantly hinting at, but in the entirety of the group’s turbulent existence, said greatness had never seemed more inevitable.
6/10
Favourite Tracks: Understanding, (Can’t) Keep It Together, Concrete Bubble