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| Gondolin Records, 2018 |
One morning from his keeper fled;
Back to his native woods retreated,
And, by his brother brutes, was kindly greeted.
I’ve been overwhelmed by Sharpen Thy Knife, Curse The Sky for quite some time. Not particularly because of how good it is - and it is good - but mainly because of its dynamic songwriting and ambiguous character. Throughout 45 minutes it ranges from passages that remind me of old-school RPG soundtracks, the semi-uplifting vibes of Forest Synth and - of course - the moody characteristics we all know and love from early Dark Dungeon Music.
It’s this diversity that makes Moth Tower’s first musical effort such an enduring one. Its shifts of tone surprise, but never catch you off-guard, as all transitions flow rather naturally. In order to describe the atmosphere it evokes, we could draw a parallel from the artwork that is portrayed on the inside of the J-card. A bear, two foxes, and a squirrel, dance on the edge of a forest. The entire scene feels both familiar and unnatural. At first glance one could interpret it as a feastful activity, but the longer I stare at it, the more foreboding it seems to get. It reminds me of some of my favorite works by William Holbrook Beard, who’s satirical paintings aim to give insight into man’s endeavors, using a broad variety of animals in man-like activities.
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| On the right: William Holbrook Beard's 'The Bear Dance' |
The same quirkiness that is to be found in the artwork also embodies Sharpen Thy Knife, Curse The Sky’s musical spectrum. Nowhere does it really comfort you, contrasting many contemporary Dungeon Synth releases. Instead, it spreads a joyful, yet threatening atmosphere. One that freezes the listener on the spot. Something is wrong. We feel unsafe. But we’ll be damned if it’s not fascinating.
TL;DR: A modern classic.
A musical translation of old folkloric fairy tales. Dangerous, gloomy, and suspiciously catchy.
Moth Tower on Bandcamp | Gondolin Records on Facebook
