Review: Asa Stone flies with atmospheric debut, ‘Songs from the Apocalypse’
Asa Stone’s debut is a must-listen new album.
“I still might die, even with you by my side,” sings Asa Stone. “Rules for Dying” serves as one of the lyrical cruxes to his debut album, Songs from the Apocalypse. From the very beginning (“Mountains”), the singer-songwriter makes his mission clear – he has a message to send about the dying state of the world, all wrapped up in atmospheric folk music that is at times dusty and also cosmic. He soars through the air across 11 tracks of expansive, yet intimate, compositions that are as relentless as they are freeing. They say you have your entire life to write your debut album, and Asa Stone has made the wait more than worth it. If he dies, like we all inevitably do, this album will remain as his magnum opus on music and this life.
Stone guides the listener through a moody sky that knows no end. “Sea,” among his vocalless excursions, nosedives to the bottom of the wave-lapping sea. Down, down, down, he plunges. Guitars cry and moan, like a needle puncturing skin and drawing droplets of blood. Then, there’s the smokey, sun-bleached “Desert,” which scorches the fingertips and begs you forward on this journey of his. These musical moments leave you wandering the landscape, as he observes smoke spirals wafting into the baby blue above. The intent is clear; the sequences offer a reprieve from the lyrical heaviness, yet accentuate the message about living and dying, killing the earth and each other, and what it means when your time is up.
“Fade Out” and “Bad Luck, Cowboy” deliver thoughtful and devastating truths about those who meander through existence without a care about the world or its people. But that’s the way of things, isn’t it? Asa Stone merely offers these remarks like holding a mirror up to the audience. He sets them down in front of us, and it’s our job to engage with them in how they fit into our perfect, little world – or not.
Songs from the Apocalypse arrives when we need it most. Especially when those in power would rather see us dead or dying from their oppression, the music both confronts reality and helps us exorcise our demons. We’re all in the same boat, whether we realize it or not. And our fates are exactly the same. We either end up as ash or a decaying corpse in the dirt. How we lived will manifest itself in various forms, and we must accept it. For now, we have Asa Stone’s lyrical achievement to guide us through the ruin.
