This collaboration between Sister Grotto, aka Madeline Johnston, who
conceived it, and Braeyden Jae, who provided “additional instrumentation,”
could only have gestated in the dark places where despair lurks. That’s right,
this is not an uplifting journey, kids, across landscapes where on the other
side you’ll find redemption. This is the unfortunate, sad path blazed by those
who have loved too much and met with only tragedy for their efforts. This is
long-form experimental catharsis, where loss is channeled into texture and
stretched until the continuous cycle of human misery resembles a fuzzy blanket
made out of guitar tones. Are you a
glutton for emotional punishment? And if you’re not, why on earth would you
listen to music in the first place?
Make no mistake, this is masterful work. “Born to Lose” is minimal and
melancholy guitar cloaked in static, representing confusion and turmoil in the
face of having to constantly move forward to survive. The mere suggestion of
the title that we’re on our own and there’s no way out of the endless wretched
cycle of our lives reflects the pensive nature of the track, and the periodic
chord resolutions only underscore the heartwrenching drudgery of our travels.
There’s no way to win. And there’s no way we can stay here.
Which is where “Born to Leave” steps in, and builds a cathedral of
sound to escape. By its midpoint, it’s clear that the point is to get out, to
get lost, to give up and burn and rise in a final arc of spiritual glory. It’s
time to leave Earth, leave people, leave everyone we’ve ever loved and
disappointed. We’ve died, that’s it. Or at least listening to it feels like
passing over to the other side, something so truly final that there’s never any
going back. Or maybe that’s being a little too dramatic (which is almost
impossible given the nature of this tape). Maybe it’s just meant as a paean to
leaving in general, moving on, changing, adapting. Even though it’s catastrophic
to experience, at least there’s closure. There’s always fucking closure.
The point is, why wallow in misery? This tape, while sad, is also a
reminder to live life, and “Born to Leave” blooms majestically over its last
seven minutes or so to underscore just that sentiment. It’s a reminder to grab
every moment and embrace every second you’re with people you love. Don’t worry
that it’ll likely all end in tragedy – such is the nature of life and death, I
suppose – you gotta make like Dead Poet’s
Society and carpe diem, baby, even though that reference makes me sound
like a boring undergrad. Whatever. You shouldn’t buy this tape because you
enjoy lengthy guitar drone workouts; instead, buy it because you want to feel again, and then turn it around and
make something better of your life.
--Ryan Masteller
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