Troy Southgate possesses something of an impeccable musical pedigree, contributing his unique vocals to H.E.R.R. and Horologium, plus guesting on albums by Von Thronstahl, Survival Unit, Sagittarius, Erich Zahn, Sistrenatus, and many others, in addition to being a writer and political commentator. Now the South Londoner conspires with Kammer Sieben's Butow Maler and Herr Twiggs (plus contributions from Maria Southgate [Troy's daughter], as well as Horologium's Eustacia Vye) to add yet another name to the ever-growing list: the Anglo-German Seelenlicht ('Soul Light'); and this, Gods and Devils, is the debut album resulting from that union.
Due, no doubt, to the prevailing emphases on neo-classicism and martial industrial that both members' main bands profess, there is almost an embarrassment of riches here. Cellos, violas, pianos, woodwind, organs, and percussion, weave a glittering tapestry backdrop for Southgate's half-spoken half-sungand spoken word ruminations on various topics of over-riding and abiding interest to him. It ranges from the daily commute to central London from the outlying regions and its inherent connection to feeding the wheels of capitalism and globalisation, to pastoral idylls and the particular ambience engendered by the notions of 'England' and 'Englishness'. Above all, the voice I hear on this album is overwhelmingly Southgate's, to the point where it almost seemed like a solo vehicle; and in all honesty at times I felt that the only role Maler's martial-classical music fulfilled, as wonderful and sonorous as it is, was simply as an accompaniment to a series of the former's essays based on his preoccupations.
Southgate has a unique and instantly recognizable delivery style that immediately divides listeners into those that love it and those that loathe it. I find myself being neutral over whether it works for me or not, sometimes feeling that the down to earth and almost homely delivery, set against a neo-classical and pop-martial backdrop, brings the subject matter into the orbit of the average man on the street, delineating his concerns and his helplessness in the face of global forces beyond his control. Simultaneously it is eminently apparent Southgate's avid passion for his vision of Englishness and the soul of "dear old England" are perfectly enunciated by his manner of delivery. At the same, I can also see how this will immediately limit its attraction to those whose natural sympathies are with a nostalgic painting of England as seen through an idealistic lens and that those who don't share such a vision might find it off-putting. There's nothing nationalistic about this however in the sense of an aggressive outpouring of patriotic sentiment. Instead it harks back to a vision of an idealised England that is peculiar to the English spirit, exemplified by the notion that somehow England is one of the best places in the world in which to live and work, an Edenic paradise not found anywhere else.
The style of delivery is best exemplified on the three part "Diary of Desolation," a lament in prose form about how our daily lives are nothing but empty shells for the most part, ultimately being manipulated by the forces of commercialisation and globalisation; it makes the telling point that 'culture,' even that which we deem to be 'alternative,' is in fact a manufactured phenomenon itself, created in the minds of marketers and cultural movers and shakers with the express intention of helping us to part with our cash. Language is very important for Mr. Southgate, often employed as a subtle but sharp weapon; as in H.E.R.R's last release. "Glass and Steel; a Norwood Tragedy," Southgate employed language as a means of directly evoking time and place, and as a way of giving a solid substantiality to the veritable soul of his England. It worked admirably on the H.E.R.R album, and it works effectively here too. Also, the inclusion of that quintessential English poem "She Walks in Beauty" by the equally quintessential English poet Byron reinforces the notion of the essential soul of England; add into the mix a few references to Herne the Hunter and Celtic mythology as well as areas of southern England and the coast further reinforce that particular ambience.
A particular favourite is "Valhalla," a humorous enumeration of Southgate's heroes, including Hemingway, Wilde, Orwell, Blake, Tolkien, and Crowley, in addition to Mishima, Heidegger, Sartre, Nietzsche, and Blavatsky, with Maler's bombastic drum 'n' martial music providing a suitably expansive high-flying backdrop and adding gravitas. Other highlights include a two part meditation on the sea and its unpredictable moods, 'Some Thoughts on the Janus Shore,' reflecting in both word and music its capricious nature, and capturing the metamorphosis from calm benignity to sudden malignity; the closing track, 'Seelenlicht,' a haunting refrain over which Southgate sings in German.
Without a doubt, it's a good album of its type, exemplifying the martial/neo-classical genre to perfection. Admittedly this is one of those albums that some people may find not to their taste, and the sentiments expressed may not jibe with everyone, however that shouldn't limit its appeal too much if the listener is prepared to look beyond the boundaries; while I don't necessarily share as sharp a sense of place as Southgate obviously does and its ties to the soil of England, a sense of belonging that many share which extends to those of other origins, I am well aware of the importance that some place on these things. While I wouldn't go so far as to let it have a place in my best of year lists, it certainly won't find a place in my worst of year either.
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