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Converge/You Fail Me LP/Epitaph/2004
Review by Joe Younglove
Judging You Fail Me by its bloodred and black artwork leads directly to the music’s aesthetic. I know some say the artwork is weak, which could be argued if it stood alone. When considered as a companion to the music the artwork is remarkable.
What the guitar lacks in technicality, it makes up for in heavy, destructive passion. The most distinguishing characteristic of the album is its emotional vitality. All bands should take a hint from Converge and play music as a release rather than a status symbol.
“Last Light” closes out with a badass guitar sequence, where three distorted notes precede a feedback snippet, suspending the distortion like the notes are being hung on a noose. The notes beg for life while the feedback strangles.
“Drop Out” features a parallel tactic, with the song riding out on an unusual riff that sounds like bagpipes on fast-forward.
“Heartless” replicates that feeling of hope you get when your destination is in view. It’s a crushing tune that contains the riff that startled me most the first time I heard the album.
The title track owns. It provides the best evidence of Converge’s talent for song construction. I’m not sure other bands can play a song like this. It’s the apex of the album because of the incredible four-descending-notes movement. It feels as if you’re drowning further and further into the song. It reminds me of Pee-wee’s Big Adventure, when the devil (Francis) in Pee-wee’s dream summons more fiery bursts to engulf Pee-wee’s prized bicycle.
Side two of You Fail Me begins with the solemn, “In Her Shadow.” It’s carried by a nearly acoustic strum, and Jacob Bannon’s time-out from throat-shredding vocals. The song avoids sparseness with a synthesized background and a slightly metallic strum and bass. Bannon sounds like he’s singing through a sewer vent.
“In Her Blood” has yet another supremely memorable riff, reminiscent of whiplash.
The pervading lyrical theme appears to be about submitting the entire self towards rejecting something that supplied strength, or the illusion of strength. It may concern how the dark side of something so bright is not necessarily a void, but certainly painful. Out of that pain comes a twisted sense of hope, as if you’re confronting the suffering and choking the negativity out of it. Converge display perseverance that erupts into blood-pumping energy.
“You Fail Me” may be a simple phrase on the surface, but there is plenty of room for interpretation. It could be a reference to another person, or to the self. Everyone refers to him or herself as “you” at some time or another. Damn it Joe, you failed me! Hey, it’s not my fault.
Either way, it’s confronting failure’s aftermath, where you have to rise further from deeper depths. Team owners failed the Minnesota Twins in the 90s by not having any money, but the Twins overcame financial ruin to become consistent playoff contenders.
The vinyl version contains a bonus song between “Eagles Become Vultures” and “Death King.” The song contains frantic sequences followed by assertive and beautiful guitar, brightening the color palette. I can only guess that it was left off the CD version because it’s like a white M&M, or even the elusive gray, in a package of reds and dark browns.
The hand on the album cover seems to be signifying survival, emphasized by the stitching all over the wrist. Snakeskin also appears in the artwork, possibly representing a sense of simultaneous renewal and hurt. It must be a bitch for snakes to remove all their skin.
Listening to this album feels like sifting and writhing around in moist soil.