Thankfully, so are Prince Rama. The sister-duo from what - for now - is Brooklyn, have taken it upon themselves to comb the post-apocalyptic soundscape to produce Top 10 Hits of the End of the World. They have conjured recordings from ten post-apocalyptic bands, each of whom adds their biggest post-apocalypse hit to this compilation. Hits offers one cathartic dance-dirge after another, and the artists on this record bear the same relationship to Passion Pit that TV on the Radio does to The Village People. I mean all of this in the most positive way I can about the end of the world; if I survived the apocalypse I would be excited that there was music like this around.
Even so, these songs mostly validate those of us planning for the worst. Cathartic though these dances be, the ended world of Hits does not seem like it offers much opportunity for dance. An Orwellian Black Elk (I'm guessing) greets the listener on the first track. A song determinedly promising, in title and in tenor, "Those Who Live For Love Will Live Forever" ends in terrifying, howling crescendo. A band called Guns of Dubai had a post-apocalypse hit with "Blades of Austerity." Everywhere, one cannot help but imagine a substantial amount of marching. (Except maybe during "So Destroyed" by Rage Peace.)
If I survive to dance my way through Prince Rama's post-apocalyptic desolation it will be because of bands like Cold Specks. I heard this band for the first time last Wednesday. They sound like Mavis Staples listened to some Macy Gray, then asked The National to play behind her with a couple of guys from The Walkmen. The shorter - better - description is their own: "doom soul." My theory is that if exposure therapy works for overcoming fear, the same might be true for overcoming imminent, apocalyptic, doom to one's soul. Needless to say, I Predict a Graceful Expulsion has become ritual listening around here.
Singer Al Spx drives Cold Specks very close to the droning, hollow dissonance heard in the final days of humanity. Only humanity manages to prevail. Spx leaves you repeating, I am, I am, I am/a goddamn believer. And she reminds us that even doomed, souls love The Fresh Prince.
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