Darker My Love

It’s a warm afternoon. I’m sitting in the backseat of a brown station wagon. There are patterned curtains on the rear windows. They’re a bit faded, and they smell a bit dusty. The sun is shining, and I can see a bit of the same dust escaping off the curtain into the freedom of the car’s atmosphere as I touch the fabric. I’m stretched out, slouched on the seat, my head propped up by nothing but a bit of corduroy car seat. The window is open, and the breeze is light. I close my eyes to feel it run through my eyelashes with its tiny fingers. A hand nudges me. It’s reaching back with a spliff. I lazily take it, some ash landing on my front. I inhale what I need and pass it back. The drive continues for some time, and with it, waves of sweet contentment. I breathe more deeply, more thoughtfully. I think a bit about life. I think about the people that I love, and those I don’t. I decide to love them all.

The car stops. I’ve forgotten that it needed to. We all get out, happily groaning with the after-effects of our willing inertia. Travelling without moving. My boots crunch the gravel beneath them. The sun is still shining. I see it through the strands of hair that have escaped from my leather band – strands of hair that now seem to glow like the sun itself, holding onto the breeze. It’s the same breeze that followed us all the way here.

Like a single entity, we walk towards a house. The grass at the doorstep is dry, and I’m not surprised. The door is opened, and far inside, I see hanging fabrics of red, orange and brown. My friend, the breeze, moves in before and picks them up. I’m not walking anymore. I don’t know what I’m doing, but as I do it through the house, I see a mass, a sea of bodies, all coexisting. I find a corner to sit in. There’s an old man with a guitar sitting nearby. I like him, and I shimmy closer to focus on the message he’s trying to send to us with his music. Others join us. And then we’re all joined. I look around me. I look at all these beautiful people, living only in the now, truly and sincerely. I love them all.

 

the album. the wonder

Did you enjoy this gibberish? I certainly enjoyed it. It’s my own gibberish, you see – a result of a first-time listen to the album ‘Alive as you are’ by Darker My Love. It’s the only real way I can possibly explain how very good it felt to hear their music for the first time; the only real way to explain where it took me. It’s been a long time since an album took me anywhere. It’s a real ride. All you have to do is get on it.

I discovered this band completely by accident, and was taken away by the first impression of their name to a place of sadder, post-metal-type stuff. I thought ‘That would be nice for a rainy day, if I lived in a rainy fucking country.’ (The band name was actually derived from a TSOL song of the same name – rad, huh?) However, even with the challenge of living in the desert, I persevered and was delightfully surprised to discover something that gave me the same kind of joy I’d successfully gleaned from musicians like Crosby, Stills, Nash and Young as a child.

Although considered ‘psychedelic rock’, I simply can’t place Darker My Love in the same arena as, say, Traffic, or other, older counterparts. There’s too much of a country element – almost how one would struggle to classify Grateful Dead when put on the spot, without losing sight of the fact that it’s a superb band. The difference, however, between this band and the ones I’ve just compared it with, is that Darker My Love is current. The fact that they’ve achieved the authentic sound of true psychedelic country rock with that pure experiential twist is a feat bigger than space travel. Srsly.

Based in Los Angeles, California, the band consists of 5 members, all from interesting backgrounds. For example, Tim Presley, a former The Nerve Agents kid, and Dan Allaire, who also drums for The Brian Jonestown Massacre (holy fuck!!!!!!!!)

Find this album, people. Because it’s way too busy getting stoned in a strange house next to an old man with a guitar to find YOU.