In Keeping Secrets of Silent Earth: 3
Coheed and Cambria
There’s an artistic lesson I think all of us creative types ought to bear witness to at least once in our lives. We ought to find some way to understand it that best suits us, and we ought to let it take root in ourselves so that, whether we ever emulate it or not, we can at least attempt to empathize with it.
That lesson, in my view: how to take the difficult way, the hard way, to your goals.
This album rarely rhymes. It tells a story, but the story is obscure and you can barely understand it without huge amounts of explanation. The songs are technical, and they’re long, and they’re intricate and layered. This is an album that, if you just put it on and bliss out to it, then you miss a lot of it. Although it’s possible to just bliss out to it because there’s a lot of ruddy good music in it anyway.
It isn’t an easy album to get. I understand it’s a marketing nightmare. It won’t nest in any of the boxes. It’s a celebration of all the least wise decisions you might make if you want to wise big as a rock star.
This is the artistic mind saying, “here’s how I will express myself,” and, without veering into utter self-indulgent tripe, ignoring anything it’s advised by “wiser experts.” It’s an exercise in self-awareness and surety of purpose.
And it works for me.
I hope it works for you too. If it doesn’t, then I hope you find your psychopomp through the wending paths of nasty.