Swans

One could try to make a case for Michael Gira having mellowed with age. It's hard to imagine someone willing to stay in the bleak sonic headscape that birthed willingly provocative tracks like "Raping a Slave" and "Time Is Money (Bastard)" for more than a few albums, let alone three decades. So while many still envision Swans as a band marrying turgid proto-industrial bludgeoning with Gira's cavernous bellow, in reality Gira moved the group far from that depth-plumbing template well before Swans' formerly final album, 1996's Soundtracks to the Blind. By the time that double-album appeared, Gira and friends (most notably co-vocalist Jarboe) were less interested in assaulting their listeners and more interested in creating music that was expansive, orchestral and (in its own way) beautiful. Still, even with Gira's existential proclamations and condemnations coming wrapped in a sepulchral croon rather than a monstrous scream, the music was still unmistakably the product of Swans.

The same can be said for Swans' surprising reunion album from last year, My Father Will Guide Me Up a Rope to the Sky. Folks still nostalgic for the exquisite torture proffered during the group's no-wave days will be heartened somewhat by the introductory portion of "No Words/ No Thoughts," with its martial percussion and dive-bombing guitar runs. Those blows are softened, though, with the addition of ringing bells and other thick sheets of sound. It's an experience as unsettling and invigorating as Swans' older work, but in a less direct and abrasive manner. Whether Gira leads the group in a folky singalong a la "Reeling the Liars In," pretends he's re-staging a Brecht/ Weill musical on "Jim," or shows moody modern rock groups how to do their job in "My Birth," Gira shows that he's ably expanded upon and outgrown Swans' well-worn template. And as a song title like "You Fucking People Make Me Sick" shows, this creative maturity hasn't compromised Swans' status as a provocateur in any measure. —David Raposa