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TIAMAT
"It’s Not a Concept Album"
By Tate Bengtson
Enigmatic and prone to sudden mutations, the long and winding road
that Tiamat has followed is difficult to trace with any sort of
descriptive clarity, yet there appears to be a logic of development,
however obscure, that guides the band’s pursuits and provides
those threads of continuity linking all of the band’s albums.
At the creative core of Tiamat’s sound is a fascination with
the interplay of light and dark musical hues, of investigating how
different sonic shades may commingle in dynamic fashion on the same
canvas, without losing their essential properties. Throughout each
and every Tiamat album, this light-dark opposition has assumed a
slightly different guise, providing the reference points upon which
the band’s vibrantly atmospheric songs are articulated.
This dark-light dichotomy achieved its most striking form on the
hypnotic dark metal of Wildhoney, generally considered the band’s
magnum opus despite some very fine work on either side of this venerated
point in the band’s discography. With the following album,
A Deeper Kind of Slumber, Tiamat underwent yet another metamorphosis,
drifting through an electronic-tinged scape of Floydian psychedelia
and generally basking in a more relaxed, less-extreme vibe than
the album’s predecessors. This trajectory sustained another
twist on Skeleton Skeletron, in which psychedelia confronted gothic
rock elements. And, bringing us to the present album, Judas Christ
increases the references to gothic rock czars such as Sisters of
Mercy and The Mission, though without abandoning that sense of cool
detachment and sinister irony that has rested at the core of Tiamat’s
sound throughout the years. In fact, it may be argued that Judas
Christ represents the most striking exploration of the light-dark
dynamic since Wildhoney; of course, with a vastly different method
and frame of reference, but also with the most pronounced use of
sharply contrasting song elements since the latter album. Case in
point, how the band effortlessly moves from the relative darkness
of the arch-pessimistic "So Much for Suicide" into the
jubilant pomp of "Vote For Love," the band’s shamelessly
catchy first single. While accusations may fly that the band has
indeed turned its frown upside-down, it is evident that darkness
still prevails over its opposite in Tiamat’s music. If anything,
these temporary assertions of lighter songwriting allow for a more
striking contrast.
In terms of how Judas Christ builds upon the seemingly dialectical
nature of Tiamat’s development, bassist Anders Iwers reveals
that the band’s progression is far from a deliberate process,
but more of a natural movement. "Well, it’s hard to say,
as we don’t really think in terms of changing and such. But
this album would not have sounded the way that it does if we wouldn’t
have made Slumber or Wildhoney or any other album; it is all very
natural to us." To some extent, he suggests, it is as if the
songs have a mind of their own, as if the creative process is some
sort of dialogue between band members and the song being conceived
at the time. "We just write songs, and if they sound good to
us, we run with it, and let them take us where they need to go.
Come to think of it," he suggests, "what I just said might
be what we have learned over the years!"
With regard to the album title, Judas Christ, it clearly possesses
religious connotations, although Anders dodges any direct interrogation
about the title, instead preferring it to remain ambiguous. "I
don’t really want to clear everything up. Of course, it has
some religious context, but I mean, religious symbols are so easy
to use--especially Catholic symbols--as they say so much, and could
be used on anything. Basically, it is something of a return to our
roots in a way, to bring up something that hasn’t been up front
that much lately."
The bassist emphasizes that Judas Christ is not a concept album,
although it does have a degree of thematic coherence that, I would
speculate, is perhaps higher than usual. Of course, this misconception
is fuelled by Tiamat’s characteristic tendency to work through
things in an oblique, symbolically rich fashion--in this case, of
a distinctly religious orientation. Frankly, it’s nigh-on impossible
not to speculate about some of implicit narrative structure guiding
the album and providing the coherence that appears so evident on
the album itself. I persist. "Well, it is not a concept album,"
he counters. "It basically deals with the struggle to stay
alive and sane in our world, which is not as easy as it seems. Just
the basic love-hate relation[ship], often shrouded in darker words.
But basically it is a lot of questions, which to us are more interesting
than the answers."
Lending further credence to the notion that Judas Christ is more
conceptual than the band admits is the manner in which the tracks
have been sequenced according to the following headings: spinae,
tropic of venus, tropic of capricorn, casadores. Anders explains:
"It is our way to make the album easier to listen to, what
with the different styles of music on there. We just thought that
putting the songs in a similar vein next to each other, then a little
pause before moving on to the next step would make it less schizophrenic.
But, as always, when we try to make something easy, it ends up being
even more weird! And we have to explain ourselves for six months!"
Much as he is doing now.
With regard to the track sequencing, Judas Christ tends to proceed
towards a warmer, more positive place as the album unfolds, culminating
in the pairing of "Heaven of High" and "Too Far Gone,"
two acoustic-based tunes (and a hidden thirteenth track that serves
as a heavier return to form, replete with befittingly sarcastic
refrains of "Hallelujah, Hallelujah"). "A lot of
thought goes into the sequencing of any album," says Anders.
"In our case, it was a drunken night in a seedy hotel room
in Copenhagen, Denmark, where we recorded the album. [We were] shouting
at each other until everybody was satisfied, or close to it. Those
two songs you mentioned [‘Heaven of High’ and ‘Too
Far Gone’] seemed natural to close the album. ‘Too Far
Gone’ was also the last song written for [the new album]."
Recording Judas Christ at PUK Recording Studio in Copenhagen (a
studio used by Sisters of Mercy and Depeche Mode in the past) with
Lars Nissen at the helm proved to be a smart choice for the band,
and not just for its goth rock pedigree. The recording environment
clearly contributed to the rather comfortable, luxurious nature
of the album. Judas Christ is not an album of angry, desperate,
proletarian hunger; it is an album of ironic darkness and bourgeois
extravagance, but beholden to a deeper nostalgia for something that
has never existed. It’s existential angst for those who have
the luxury of knowing what existential angst is. "It was a
very painless album to make, [by] Tiamat measures anyway. It took
about two months in the studio, and a few months of songwriting
before that. I’d say that 80 per cent was written beforehand,
and a lot of the songs took their final structure in the studio.
PUK is a very relaxed place to record in, as it is located in the
middle of nowhere. So [there was] nothing to do but play, which
I think really shows on the album. The performance has never been
[this] relaxed or confident before.
"As for the gothic connections," Anders jokes, "it
is always fun to take a crap in the same toilet that Dave Gahan
shot up in, and to sit at the dinner table and listen to the studio
owner telling stories about Andrew Eldritch and all the rest of
the people who have recorded there. Sisters and Depeche are only
two (albeit the most important), but people like Elton John, George
Michael, and a lot of big Scandinavian acts have also stayed there.
So I hope we can go back there for the next one!"
By way of conclusion, I ask Anders to place himself in the shoes
of a Tiamat fan, having just purchased Judas Christ. What then would
be the perfect setting for listening to the new album--that location
or state where the album may make its fullest impact?
"Wow, that’s hard to say, I can’t really say,"
he falters. "Some songs are for the party, some for the bed,
some for sitting alone and crying. So I dunno, man, it’s impossible
to say! Just enjoy a beer and try to have sex to it. Then you hopefully
will remember it with a smile!"
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