His Name Is Alive is the long-running genre-shifting project/ band of Michigander Warren Defever. Of his recent recordings, none are more interesting than Patterns of Light, a release that stemmed from an invite to record at the Large Hadron Collider at CERN in Switzerland. His latest is Black Wings, which first emerged as a CDR included in the 2016 Patterns of Light Super Set, and then as a standalone CDR last year. Both of those editions are sold out, so Black Wings’ return to print on 2LP by Happy Happy Birthday to Me is welcome. Representing in miniature Defever’s steadfast eschewal of stylistic predictability across 29 tracks while existing as its own intriguing thing, it’s available now.
Initially coming to prominence on 4AD circa 1990 with debut Livonia, His Name Is Alive surely benefited from the association with the tastemaker label, but it’s also true that as Defever and his collaborators progressed, and especially as the 4AD run neared its culmination, they left some fans befuddled and a few even betrayed by a refusal to maintain an immediately identifiable sound.
Others welcomed the range, and that’s the camp to which I belong, though not so passionately that I snatched up his simultaneous outpouring of non-4AD material (what I have heard was cool). This divide perhaps reached an apex with 2001’s Someday My Blues Will Cover the Earth, a ’90s-style slow-jam Soul/ R&B outing (featuring the spiff vocals of Lovetta Pippen) that’s roughly a thousand miles away from not just the arty ethereality of Livonia but also the indie-psych-pop of ’96’s excellent (Saturday Looks Good to Me-foreshadowing) Stars on E.S.P.
Instead of those who guardedly investigate to see if Defever’s back in their ballpark, it’s the folks eagerly anticipating what Defever will do next (while obviously having their personal favorites, one of mine being ’07’s Sweet Earth Flower, his tribute to the jazz saxophone great Marion Brown) that will be the most receptive audience for Black Wings, though listeners introduced to Patterns of Light due to their love of particle colliders and/ or musical heaviness may want to check it out, as well.
Succinctly, Patterns of Light is Defever’s dive into prog metal, and if that reads like a potentially maddening left turn, it comes with the claim that His Name Is Alive spent a year studying particle physics in prep. The dedication is reflected in the result as the vocals of Andrea Morici (she also contributes mellotron, Moog, and piano) extends Defever’s careerlong interest in working with female singers. Plus, an early cover of Rainbow’s “The Man on the Silver Mountain” (found on “The Dirt Eaters” EP from ‘92) establishes some level of long-standing attentiveness to matters hard rock-metallic.
To an extent, Black Wings, which collects “outtakes, demos and experiments” from the sessions for Patterns of Light, separates and spotlights that record’s elements in a manner that, if somewhat resistant to cohering into a “proper” album experience, still benefits from the ability to engage with the contents a section at a time. The first side irises-in on the superb voice of Morici, which if not necessarily the strongest ingredient in Patterns of Light’s recipe (it’s damned close), is the aspect that elevates the whole affair above being “just” a prog metal homage to the colliding of particles.
Occasionally a cappella here (mildly bringing Petra Haden to mind), but more often minimally accompanied, and with a short dip into the splendid violin and string arrangements of Jean Cook, side one of Black Wings is at once a series of potential building blocks and a sustained beauty move that could easily be of interest to lovers of Defever’s pop-inclined material.
Side two places the focus on Patterns of Light’s baroque-ambient-proggy-experimental instrumental component, opening with a lengthy passage of hovering and intensifying synth fuzz and grind that’s appropriate for the subject of the group’s tribute. It’s followed by a couple varied (and shorter) entries before Morici’s voice reemerges as part of the French pop gem “Cet Air-La.” From there, a short solo piano piece buffers the inevitable arrival of the adeptly executed hard rock crunch and pummel that is the instrumental “Rush.”
Dusty Jones wields the guitar and J. Rowe beats the drums (Defever handles the bass), and if the title of the track suggests a certain Canadian band (regarding expansive heaviness, they and Hawkwind have been cited), to my ear (both here and on Passages of Light) this is more in spirit than through any direct soundalike tendencies.
Side three continues the rock motions, although decided headway is made into a prog sensibility that’s most fully realized in a demo of “Energy Acceleration” (heard with vocals on side one) and the Terry Riley-ish “Demonmix.” The early moments of the side-closing “After Greensleeves” are indeed the well-known classical theme delivered hard rock guitar style, and if it briefly brought visions of music store shredders dancing in my head like so many heavy metal boot-clad sugar plums, it wastes no time moving into a jazzy zone that could’ve stuck around for a good while longer.
It’s really on the second album, and the first half of side four particularly, that Black Wings’ reality as a sort of aural sketchbook becomes most tangible, though this shouldn’t be construed as a knock. Morici’s singing is missed however, so when she swings back into action on a truncated hard rock-tinged dip into America’s “Sister Golden Hair,” it’s a treat.
Sure, it’s a bit like a snippet from a Saturday afternoon band practice taking place across the street, but shit, I wish I had neighbors that cool. And the Defever-sung demo of “Calling All Believers” radiates the vibe of early Sebadoh on a Klaatu bender, and that’s nice, too. The set closes quietly but satisfyingly with the 12-minute ambient drift of “For the Scientist” (specifically Dr. James Beacham, whose invite kicked all this off).
Will Black Wings overtake Sweet Earth Flower as my favorite recording from His Name Is Alive? I seriously doubt it, but it does offer consistent rewards amongst a deep underscoring of what Patterns of Light (and previous records) already made plain; when Warren Defever’s discography moves into uncharted territory, it’s with sincere commitment, and he produces an unusually high ratio of success amid the range. If you’ve hung with the guy across the decades, there’s no way you won’t want this one on the shelf.
GRADED ON A CURVE:
B+
