Architects Essay

ARCHITECTS - THESE COLOURS DONT RUN
The bringing together of our trash, our private wastes depots, and the store fronts and tabletops, the repulsive juxtaposition is the heart of spirituality. Moral paradoxes that we live and our society preserves. HYPOCRISY. the suburbs stow away moral decay; our brains are numb; and our souls are enslaved. Boom. Hands down thats a spiritual prophecy if I ever heard one. Romans 8:22 NIV 'We know that the whole creation has been groaning as in the pains of childbirth right up to the present time'
When gazing over the many genres that have proliferated today, I cannot help but hold that hardcore has gained the greatest grip spiritual reality of the world today. We have to go to an Architects gig. Only by actually partaking in this primal ceremony with our body can we actually comprehend the unparalleled completeness of this spiritual encounter. The completeness of the gigs spirituality lies in two competencies; i) that hardcore alone has kept taut and lean its lyrical muscles and ii) that is has kept a Spartan and elementally physical mosh pit. In so holding these things in tension, hardcore has brought a grimy truth forth from the mud of an underground community; and Architects savage verses, which are indistinguishable from the unstoppable surging of bodies beneath their stages, attest to this staggering potency. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=FHHJF2cUwyY Anyone who is in the hardcore scene will know, along with the members of Durdens Fight Club that there is no going back; that the hardcore gig discloses a reality of violent and honest expression that is too precious, gritty and raw to betray. One is simply unable to tolerate thoughts of being in another place when they are crushed and molded by the soaking flesh of the pit. To abandon the churning mouth of the mosh; a madman chewing on the bone and gristle of life itself; for other de-visceralised venues dominated by droning screens and dull programming would be a colossal understatment of life itself, an insult to the soul; pure soma by juxtaposition, a pernicious opiate; all other forms of social expression get greyed down and muted, and are mere mediocre and etherized alternatives when has been in the filthy midst of his fellow man, the spiritual forgery of the floor section, smashed up against a seething mass of sweat and passion, the black ocean of the roaring crowd.
The sheer tide of distortion in the breakdown of These Colours mercilessly assaults our ears; going on to eat through our whole being; is the best essay and analogy our era has come up with to describe the chaotic world of spirit, the demonic ruin that resides under our chalky faade of composure which we work at double time to maintain on a daily basis (clean pavement, pristine manners, political correctness, affirmative action, tax-deductible tithe, Ritalin, corporate branding spread over our clothes, four wheel drives, cosmetics, the cabals of theology). Kierkegaard described the spiritual world that heaves beneath our whitewashed faade with profound insight in his opus Fear And Trembling;
If there were no eternal consciousness in a man, if at the bottom of everything there were only a wild ferment, a power that twisting in dark passions produced everything great or inconsequential; if an unfathomable, insatiable emptiness lay hid beneath everything, what would life be but despair?
Architects are not afraid to, with the full apparatus of an enraged crowd, thrust their hands into the muck of human nature, to deliver in birth an incredibly tortured and sublime piece of music, marred with broken discords and redeemed in the desperate glory of soaring lead lines, and thus chart the wild ferment that Kierkegaard so impressively articulates. The launching of the Apollo rocket as the song drains to a coda is a savage irony; we have the gall to venture out upon our moon with shameless leaps for mankind when we have not the courage to voyage into our own distorted souls today. But this is brave new world is being brought to the frontier of an avid generation of hardcore fans today. Hardcore provides an indispensable venue for conversation that holds moral weight; a conversation robust enough to carry weight-laden words like atonement, apology, guilt, bitterness, and suicide. Such concepts are far too moralistic and demanding to be sustained by the flimsy aesthetic-dependant form of folk hipsterism (perhaps exceptions can be occasionally made, for instance Bon Ivers For Emma is a grueling project of emotional realism. But even Iver seems monochromatic at times, remaining plaintively wounded and tinged with masochism. The only other example I can conceive of is Arcade Fire, who stand unmatched by contemporary bands not only in breadth of their conversation but also in their thoroughness and courage. Perhaps the same critique could be leveled at Hardcore, which to my experience has revolved upon the axis of relational bitterness as a persistant theme, but I myself need to broaden my palate to make this claim with any creedence). Hardcore overshadows the facile and hypocritical lyrical realm of the charts because it does due diligence to the ruin of human reality, of the grief of the soul, the isolation of society, and the disgusting paradoxes of man, when no other genre, in its entirety, does this. Hardcore stands alone as a
popularisation of music that is beginning to deal adequately with these dark but immanent faces of a taboo reality. The stark existential realism of hardcore is devastatingly politicised in These Colours. This is because all politics reposes upon the continuum of existentialism and passion at some point. The names of the corporations and crimes that the verses so brutally lament are not given us, but our emotions are stirred to such an extent that, if mobilised, the political potential would be catastrophic. Thus, hardcore presents a possibility, albeit protean, for a new movement of a young demographic into first the carnal solidarity of the mosh pit, then the unchackling of the soul, then a mobilising of the political, and finally a maturation of the spirit. Politically speaking, the only thing hardcore needs is a manifesto. And straight edge is pass. For myself, the manifesto has already been given and overlooked in regard to the conversation began in These Colours. If hardcore is a mode that is sympathetic to reality, then of course Christianity will immediately feature through it and sieze upon it, because Christianity by definition is the bloody and brutal reality of the soul; the true arena of the elemental war between the God of life and freedom and the father of slavery; good and evil; the brokenness of man. Hence,
Romans 8:19-22 19 For the creation waits in eager expectation for the children of God to be revealed. 20 For the creation was subjected to frustration, not by its own choice, but by the will of the one who subjected it, in hope 21 that the creation itself will be liberated from its bondage to decay and brought into the freedom and glory of the children of God. 22 We know that the whole creation has been groaning as in the pains of childbirth right up to the present time. Revelation 21:5 5 He who was seated on the throne said, I am making everything new!

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ARCHITECTS - THESE COLOURS DONT RUN

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