| Pitchfork |
The video for Esben and the Witch's "Marching Song" is one of the most morbidly transfixing clips I've seen in recent years. It opens on rotating close-ups of the band's members, each cut timed to a chord change. As the song escalates, their faces grow progressively bloodier and more battered. It's rough stuff, and it becomes increasingly difficult to watch, but it wouldn't be half as unsettling without the song, which builds its descending bass line into a knee-trembling wall of guitars, with lead singer Rachel Davies' full-throated wail on top. It is profoundly arresting, suggesting a hybrid of Pornography-era Cure with Florence's evil sister on vocals.If the resulting full-length were half as compelling as that heady sales pitch, Violet Cries would be one of the best albums of the year. Unfortunately, Esben and the Witch, a Brighton-based three-piece signed by Matador last year, aren't quite as potent or frightening as they want to be. They are one of the highest-profile of a recent crop of bands that have reached back to goth for inspiration; their name is a reference to a ghoulish, Hansel-and-Gretel-like Danish folk tale, and Davies' lyrics are purple with references to "strange metallic voices" and other macabre signifiers. They've certainly got the pure sound of it nailed down. More than most mini-genres, goth demands ambiance-- the mood is everything, and on this front, Violet Cries succeeds tremendously. The record is mixed by Rodaidh McDonald, who produced the xx's debut album, and there is a similarly ringing gorgeousness to the sound here: Every chord and drum beat echoes into a cavernous emptiness. The guitars, in particular, sound fantastic, drifting like graveyard fog on the verses and then digging in like meat hooks on the choruses. Davies' voice is a spectacular instrument, as commanding in its dusky lower register as when she scales up into a shout....full text |
| Nme |
| The recent resuscitation of all things goth has been an American obsession, with handsome bloodsucking movie stars swaddling the mainstream and the vamped-up visages of Zola Jesus et al peering from the fringes – and it’s a revival that has largely failed to take on these shores. Sure, there was 2008’s brief flurry with Scum, O Children and co, and there are still those flocking around Whitby decked out in their Siouxsie & The Banshees garb. But for the rest of us, all that gloomy pouting and posturing seems a bit passé. Disregard what you’ve heard, then, about Brighton trio Esben And The Witch being the UK’s newest vault creatures – because, crucially, they’re gothic rather than goth, and possessed of a much more beguiling aesthetic. To immerse yourself in ‘Violet Cries’ is more akin to entering a Ye Olde English fairy tale than some trashy vampire fiction, like discovering a weighty, weathered tome that lies under several thick inches of dust and recounts a distant age....full text |
| Prefixmag |
| Having already impressed Matador enough to put out their Marching Song EP, Brighton trio Esben & The Witch continue their relationship with the long-running indie with this, their debut album. Matador has gone as far as to describe it as "amongst the more audacious and ambitious debut albums, whether in recent memory or in this label's very long run." Produced by band member Daniel Copeman, the album amplifies the sound and size of their dark, gothic post-punk to harrowing heights, as opposed to the restrained, slow burn of their previous work....full text |
Esben and the Witch lyrics
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The video for Esben and the Witch's "Marching Song" is one of the most morbidly transfixing clips I've seen in recent years. It opens on rotating close-ups of the band's members, each cut timed to a chord change. As the song escalates, their faces grow progressively bloodier and more battered. It's rough stuff, and it becomes increasingly difficult to watch, but it wouldn't be half as unsettling without the song, which builds its descending bass line into a knee-trembling wall of guitars, with lead singer Rachel Davies' full-throated wail on top. It is profoundly arresting, suggesting a hybrid of Pornography-era Cure with Florence's evil sister on vocals.