Charalambides: "Desecrated"

On their recent Exile LP, we find longstanding Austin duo Charalambides digging deep into the crisp seasonal affectations which always best showcased their solemn, churning psych-folk sounds, the band recently slowing their once-intense output metabolism to something a little more hibernation-ready. Their restless working pace has always made for a bit of uncertainty in predicting the results of their releases, but standing frozen in the presence of Exile‘s snoring bear, I find myself with something like equal parts hair-raising, smoldering intensity and stubborn caloric excess. When not blissfully entrenched in the familiar, layered dream state of the swirling earth-tone rituals that have always characterized the duo, the record often feels cold and deadpan, like a strange, uncomfortable bedroom reveal of the band’s most denuded visages, and the results are at times both mystifying and confounding.

Unfolding in the tradition of Charalambides’ best material, “Desecrated” is all fall leaves cascading in slow motion into a steely woodland stream, rattling guitar strings and arrhythmic crystal fingerpicking tracing their looping brushstroke paths as warm bursts of heavy distortion mark the stillness of each moment of impact on a mirrored surface. It’s as visually evocative as the best tracks in their catalog without a doubt, and with the sudden glowing interjection of a hopeful major key chorus, probably stands as one of the band’s catchiest melodies to date. In the big picture of a great twenty-year history, it says a lot about the staying power of two musicians who obviously know how to stay in tune with a seemingly natural creative cycle.

“Catchy” feels like a strange statement about a satisfyingly noisy psych chant, but “Desecrated” meets that criteria easily while exuding the melodic weight and spiritual yearning of an ageless hymn. Against husband Tom’s gleaming ice cavern backdrop of twinkling guitar, Christina Carter’s heavy up-front vocals decry the dogmatic declarations of a zealot mystic in the throes of religious hypnosis. “There is no way to be brought back to life,” she professes, but if anything can be predicted about this metaphorical stasis considering the band’s history and the fact that Exile has plenty to offer a newbie open to investigating a wealth of intriguing tunes, this most likely ain’t the big sleep.