Sit tight with me, I promise this is going somewhere.
Every year my elementary school held a cake walk, the cakes were made by the students, and each was judged by the PTA and prizes were awarded. The prizes were these little chocolate bears on a stick. The year I entered my mom helped me make a chocolate cake, which I then decorated with frosting. On the day the winners were announced, I patiently waited to hear my name. Sure enough, the winner for Wackiest design was me. Again I waited patiently as the prizes were passed out to all the winners, finally I would know the delicious taste of the chocolate bear on a stick. But all I got was a certificate. The winner for Wackiest design did not receive a chocolate bear.
I held back tears, and walked home alone, angrily plotting a bloody coup of the cake walk. But when I stepped through the front door to my house and was greeted by my mom, the flood gates opened and I spilled tears all over the red brick entryway. If you’re going to hand out prizes, why doesn’t Wackiest get one? What does Wackiest even mean? I’m not throwing a pity party, seriously that was over twenty years ago… I’m sure the chocolate bears tasted like old Hershey’s anyway. But, Whacky is a word that’s come up on more than one occasion when discussing the music of Arrington De Dionyso.
Wacky is a reductive term that tries to explain away what it is that Arrington is actually doing. It’s just a way of acknowledging that while there may be something of substance present, it’s not always easy to pin point or understand. When you call something wacky you don’t have to give it a prize, because its genius is less obvious.
There’s lots that could make the music of Arrington De Dionyso wacky; his fluctuation between English, Indonesian, throatsinging, yelps, and howls, heavy guitars that skim the surface of Big Black, thudding repetitive drum tempos that are tribal in nature, bass that hums at a frequency that could give you an irregular heartbeat. The appearance of a bass clarinet, jaw harp, and basically everything you can find in a grammar school music room. Then there’s Arrington’s general performance art appearance, where you just never know if you’re trapped in some devilish dream, or if this guy is some evil genius.
I’ve been a fan of Arrington’s work dating back to Old Time Relijun, which detonated some of the heaviest sounds to assault your eardrums in all the Pacific Northwest. Under his own name he’s been exceptionally prolific releasing over a dozen mostly experimental (at least even more experimental than his typical albums). But in the last few years he’s been playing and touring with a rotating cast of bandmates as Arrington De Dionyso’s Malaikat Dan Singa.
Malaikat is a perfect blend of Old Time Relijun and “Arrington.” It balances on the edge of a knife, one side unidentifiable experimental sounds, the other freeform thudding rock with accessible hooks. The music is unpredictable, you never know what you’ll hear next or when you’ll stumble upon a riff that will be stuck in your head all day.
The first two Malaikat albums, the self titled Malaikat dan Singa, and Suara Naga, were mostly if not completely foreign tongued. Songs like Mani Malaikat, Aku Di Penjara, or Iblis Atas Iblis, were enigmatic and beautiful. While my ears weren’t exactly sure what it was hearing, my heart was telling me that it was amazing.
The latest Malaikat album, Open the Crown, is arguably their best, and certainly the most Americanized. Not only are there more songs in English, but on songs like There Will Be No Survivors or The Akedah (The Moon is Full), he drops the throat singing entirely. The variety here is stronger than ever, and fills out the bands most complete album to date. I Create in the Broken System, is one of my favorite songs so far this year, it features poetic throatsung English lyrics, and is narcotically addictive.
At this point I’m not sure what was a bigger risk for Arrington, writing albums in an almost completely foreign tongue, or mixing in a steady amount of English. At some point you go against the grain enough that when you do follow its smooth lines, that creates the uncertainty. Regardless, Open the Crown siphons enough from Arrington’s body of work that it mixes perfectly.
I frequently use Malaikat to prove how diverse and unique the music of the PNW is, my point typically has something to do with how accepting the music fans here are and how Malaikat wouldn’t make it anywhere else. Which is full of half truths. The music of the PNW is unique and diverse, and the music fans are accepting, but Malaikat could make it anywhere, and Open the Crown proves that. This isn’t some collection of wacky tunes, these are unbelievable songs that rattle the course of your musical taste. There’s so much to like here.
It’s heavy rock, it’s tribal folk, it’s a psychedelic trip, it’s some bastardization of hip-hop music at it’s most base level. Then it’s also just what the ears and the heart want.
Give the album a listen, a full listen, all the way through. Don’t judge it prematurely. There is gold throughout. Arrington says it best in the albums closing pseudo rap, I Manipulate the Form’d and the Formless.
Open the Crown is out today through K-records at krecs.com and most digital and physical retailers.
Arrington de Dionyso’s Malaikat dan Singa: website/facebook/twitter
The post REVIEW: ARRINGTON DE DIONYSO’S MALAIKAT DAN SINGA ~ OPEN THE CROWN appeared first on secretly important.
