The Funeral And The Twilight

The spine of the Funeral and the Twilight's new CD requests that you "Call here before you kill yourself: (202) 456-1111." It's a direct line to the White House's legion of robot operators, which spits out this message: "Thank you for calling the White House comment line. Your comment is very important to the president."

To Kill You hearkens this age of isolation, when actually talking to a human has become rare and finding one who cares what you think is rarer still. Benjamin Jones's ghostly vibrato shakes off these surroundings, plugging you directly into his emotional switches.

Ten out of ten songs bleed black. A few—"Ready to Disappear," "Now She Is Mine to Keep," and "Lipstick on My Pillow"—at first feel like they come from the Cure's poppy era, when you wonder whether Robert Smith's pretending to be happy means he is crazier than ever. Mostly, the discordant melodies, punctuating cymbal crashes, and bleak imagery push-pull listeners to the dark side, luring them to a séance on top of Ian Curtis's grave.

Other highlights are linked to the album's dedication, "In loving memory of God." "God Holds You Now" showcases swooning staccato and vampiric love notes: "I put you on the table/I open you up/You have so many things to touch/And things to lust." Four songs later, "O My Goodness, O My Goodness, O My God" plays with layers. A single guitar line leads to orchestrated cacophony, which Jones's howling fails to placate.

In the end, To Kill You reminds listeners that the era of despair will always be in vogue—and if you must wallow, do it with decadence. In a town that can be preoccupied with happy-go-lucky garage rock, the Funeral and the Twilight have sliced through the bliss with their haunting new record, which is likely to be one of the best local releases of the year.
- city pages

Beneath a thick hide of melodic overtones hangs the Funeral and the Twilight's monster. It emits guttural yells and otherworldly howls, and lies in wait to sink its fangs into your precious girlfriend's pink belly. Singer Benjamin Jones mixes the gothic vibrato of Dead Science's Sam Mickens with over-the-top swooning à la Morissey, but fixes the effect without the snobbery. This is topped with music that manages to be both raw and elegant, modern and near-Gregorian. Ever moving through the Sturm und Drang, the turbulent sounds are frighteningly emotional and bitterly beautiful. Listening to the wafting creations is an experience that can shake listeners to their cores and threaten to shake free their own ghosts. - city pages

Sauce Spirits And Soundbar Sauce Spirits And Soundbar 3001 Lyndale Ave S Twin Cities MN 55408
$5 Thu Oct 15 9:30 pm, The Funeral And The Twilight, Build My Gallows High, The United Sons Of Toil, and The Goondas at Sauce Spirits And Soundbar Twin Cities band The Funeral And The Twilight hangs its love of Morrissey and Joy Division right out there in the open, at least when it comes to singer Benjamin Jones, who goes for Moz's preciously peeved melodic edge but tempers it with Ian Curtis' creepy rawness. It probably helps that he finds his own mix instead of trying to outright ape either influence, and the band's music is a similarly turbulent brew, blending the feistiness of old-school post-punk and plenty of agreeably morbid, unstable moods.
Sauce Spirits And Soundbar 3001 Lyndale Ave S, Twin Cities, MN Related Articles Twin Cities band The Funeral And The Twilight hangs its love of Morrissey and Joy Division right out there in the open, at least when it comes to singer Benjamin Jones, who goes for Moz's preciously peeved melodic edge but tempers it with Ian Curtis' creepy rawness. It probably helps that he finds his own mix instead of trying to outright ape either influence, and the band's music is a similarly turbulent brew, blending the feistiness of old-school post-punk and plenty of agreeably morbid, unstable moods.
- A.V. Club