SUNBATHER
There are lots of albums that I like, or that I think are superb, but few of them have changed me as deeply as Deafheaven's Sunbather. At that time, I barely knew anything about black metal (except that they used to burn churches) and shoegaze (I'd never even heard of the term). Yeah, I know, I was a very musically ignorant person back then. I mostly listened to the music I grew up with (although, as I said in my last entry, my first contact with music was pretty late), but I was on a journey of discovering new genres, especially those related to metal.
I think I first came across Sunbather — and Deafheaven — in a review by The Needle Drop on YouTube. Although I wasn't very fond of "inaudible" screams, I decided to give it a try, and I'm so glad I did. I listened to it from start to finish, and then again and again... I wasn't even looking up the lyrics. I just let the screams fill my insides. It was like the sound waves were acting as X-rays passing through me. It gave me chills. I didn't care about the band, I didn't care about the history behind each song, I didn't care about what it all meant. I just needed to feel all the emotions this album was making me feel.
I'm almost crying as I listen to "Irresistible" right now.
This album... In retrospect, this album was the beginning of something I'm only starting to understand now, at 33. We all have a cancer deep inside us that we need to remove. Somehow, we have to open up our bellies with a hook, stick it in, and pull it out with all our strength. Doesn't matter how gory it gets. It has nothing to do with sin. It has more to do with the layers and layers of toxic waste that society feeds us. One day you wake up and feel so lost that you don't even know who you are or can't even tell what you're feeling inside. Sunbather did something like that to me. It uncorked something that was stuck in my throat.
I am my father's son
I am no one
I cannot love
It's in my blood— The Pecan Tree
When I was a kid, I used to cry a lot. Everything affected me so much. I wouldn't say I had a hard childhood, at least not materially speaking. My parents work a lot and have good jobs. Both accountants. My mother works at a law firm and my father has his own consulting firm, so they could afford to give us more than everything we needed. Christmases were apotheosically good. You want that console that just came out? Add it to your letter to Santa. You want that toy you saw on TV? Same thing. But not everything was all sunshine and rainbows. My parents had — and I think they still have — their issues. Not only within themselves, but also between them.
Listening to Sunbather, the memories come rushing back to me. We're in the car on our way to school. My little brother can't remember the basic multiplication tables. My mother turns around and reaches out her hand. She grabs my brother by his hair and starts shaking his head violently, both of them screaming their lungs out, and all I can think is that we're all going to die. Spoilers: thank God we didn't crash that day.
Then, some years later, Christmas came. My father got both of us a set of golf clubs. We used to play at the top of a small beach town called Papudo. I tried them out to check the fit. "These are great," I said, "but I think they're too big for us." My father's face changed in a second. He was furious. "You're fucking ungrateful!" he shouted at me. I was shocked. I didn't know what to do. So I got on my knees and started crying and begging for his forgiveness. And that wasn't the only time.
Do you feel like you're reading something so personal that you shouldn't be reading it? That's how Sunbather makes me feel. Clarke opens up his inner world to us in such a beautiful and dramatic way. I feel like I shouldn't be listening to this, but he wants me to hear it. Love, drugs, father-son relationships, obsession with wealth, personal demons... I can't say I understand Clarke, but I can relate to all these issues. And all of them flow so naturally throughout the album. Once you start playing it, you can't stop until it ends by itself. I also really like how he puts bits of "real life" into some songs.
By the precious blood of Jesus Christ, her sins will be judged
And God will cast you into the lake that burns with fire and brimstone
Where there is weeping, and gnashing of teeth
Where the fire is never quenched and where the worm dieth not
It is a place called Hell, and Hell is real— Windows
When I was little, I used to go to church every Sunday. I mentioned it in my last entry, but my dad is a Pentecostal and my grandfather was a pastor in the same church. I grew up with the weight of guilt heavy on my shoulders, and it kept accumulating inside me for decades.
At that time, I liked to read a lot. In my father's church, sometimes members of the congregation can also give their own sermons. I remember one Sunday, a "brother" standing behind the altar and going on a monologue about how we shouldn't read any book other than the Bible. Not only was it the only book worth reading, but all other books were impure and full of sinful ideas. That was the moment I decided I didn't want to go to church anymore.
And I thought I was done with church, but toxic Christianity wasn't done with me.
Years later, I would go down a religious conspiracy theory rabbit hole so badly that one night at the beach with friends — and very, very drunk — I had a messianic delusion that scared everyone. Hell, even I was very scared by it when it was all over. Although my father didn't know everything about this episode, he encouraged me to research all this stuff. We could talk for hours about the secret plans of the Catholic Church and the secret religion of the rich. I think it was the time I felt closest to him.
Now I can barely hug him. It's like my body rejects him. Same thing with my mother, but I feel it's worse with my father. I just don't like what I inherited from him. I've been trying to cut all of that out of myself for years.
I held my breath and drove through a maze of wealthy homes
And I watched how green the trees were
And I watched how green the trees were
And I watched the steep walkways and the white fences— Sunbather
At the age of 11, my mother decided I should go to another school. Somewhere "closer" to home and with "better" teachers. Basically, somewhere that would guarantee me a place at a good university. So my brother and I transferred to a more expensive school.
I was used to a very childlike environment. All my classmates and I cared about was playing and getting hyped about cool kids' stuff. Then I arrived at my new school, and the only things everyone cared about were girls, boys, alcohol, and parties. Lots of alcohol. I would say I had arrived at the most alcoholic school in the whole city. I knew of some older students who already had ulcers at the age of 18.
I had a very hard time adjusting to this sudden change. On top of that, although I was a very handsome boy, adolescence hit me like a truck. My face was covered in pimples, and my mouth, for some reason, was now too big for the size of my head. It was like my whole body somatized everything I was going through at the time and decided I should be "ugly" now.
I suffered a lot of bullying. Compared to other students, it wasn't so bad, though. I remember one student from another class whose peers would chase him down the hallways trying to stick a finger up his anus. All excited and laughing. Fucking weirdos.
So I coped by drinking a lot of alcohol and crying at parties. I used to cry a lot at night in my bed, too. All I thought about was getting into university, getting a very well-paid job, and becoming richer and more successful than all these assholes.
And one night, I just couldn't cry anymore. No matter how sad I felt, not a single tear would come out. I started having problems with empathy. I could only feel sad about things that happened to me. I never stopped being a very "intense" person, but some door in my heart had closed.
Until I listened to Sunbather, and something got unstuck.
This album will keep me company for the rest of my life. I wanna know more about it. I've already downloaded a copy of one of Clarke's favorite books, The Unbearable Lightness of Being (1984) by Milan Kundera, and I'm reading it right now while listening to Sunbather for the second time. I think I'm obsessed, and I wanna dive deeper.