Since their formation in Montreal 30 years ago, Godspeed You! Black Emperor have come to seem timeless, their imposing musical aesthetic and DIY modus operandi wholly unaffected by changes in technology or the music industry. Unless youâre reading their liner-note communiques closely, thereâs little on a formal level to distinguish a 1999 Godspeed record from a 2021 one. But the title of Godspeedâs eighth album instantly dates itselfâand thatâs the point. As textual exercises go, âNO TITLE AS OF 13 FEBRUARY 2024 28,340 DEADâ is like The Zone of Interest condensed to album-spine format, contrasting the mundane formalities of naming a record with the horrors unfolding in Gaza at the time of its conception while also forcing us to consider where that number stands today. The cover art conveys a similarly defeatist airâin lieu of the artfully blurred photographs or evocative illustrations of old, we get a stark picture of gear, furniture, and dirty cutlery strewn about a hermetic jam space, as if the band was too numbed to come up with any other ideas.
But while discussions of Godspeedâs music often revolve around their staggering quiet-to-cataclysmic ascents, the bandâs real power lies in their emotional dynamism, and the way the tone of their work can so easily turn from tragic to triumphant. From their earliest days, Godspeed have performed with Super-8 films projected behind them, and at a certain point in each show, the flickering images of cityscapes give way to a simple handwritten messageââHOPEââthat looks like it was scrawled by someone trying to hold onto their sanity deep into a lengthy prison sentence. But on their most recent albums, Godspeed have treated âHOPEâ more like a Bat signal: As the worldâs doom spiral has accelerated, Godspeed have responded with the most elating music in their canon. And while the title âNO TITLE AS OF 13 FEBRUARY 2024 28,340 DEADâ provides an unspeakably grim reminder of the context that birthed it, the music sounds more defiantly exultant than ever.
âNO TITLEâ is not without its mournful, meditative passages (could an interstitial track called âBroken Spires at Dead Kapitalâ be anything but?), but the album more frequently provides accessible and expedient pathways to its moments of communal ecstasy. Itâs a record that welcomes you in rather than making you work for it: With its valorous guitar intro, sweetly swelling strings, and gently jazzy drums wafting in like a cool breeze, the opening âSun Is a Hole, Sun Is Vaporsâ has no interest in scaling the same heights as Godspeedâs most volcanic epics; rather, it invites you to savor an experience thatâs as simple and profound as a sunrise. Likewise, the bookending closer âGrey Rubble – Green Shootsâ is another relative rarity in the Godspeed canon, packing the slow-climb/crescendo/comedown schematic of a 20-minute suite into a relatively concise 6:57. By Godspeed standards, this feels practically like a pop single (and all the more so when you realize its central circular melody kinda sounds like âChopsticksâ).
