If These Trees Could Talk

I used to think I was limited by my own imagination. Like, whatever stories I read in books or watched on television were always going to be better than anything I could ever come up with in my own pile of brainz.

But I see shit.

Not like I see members of my own family turning into the walking undead and having to put them down to save the rest of the people in my group or anything, but what I see isn't too far off from that I guess. Of course, what I see in my head is void of intensity without a proper soundtrack, and I'm never at a loss for amazing music to shove into my holes.

This week marks the release of the latest album, Red Forest, from one of my favorite instrumental bands, If These Trees Could Talk. I discovered them the same week I discovered And So I Watch You From Afar, and while I found ASIWYFA equally as inspiring, I find ITTCT to be that consistent emotional connection with the world around me. Where ASIWYFA encourages me to break out the shotgun and blast my way through towards safety, Trees suggest I save my ammo, breathe before reacting, and take notice of what's around me before popping off at the closest rustle of leaves or brief chance to play the role of the hero.

During the first full track, The First Fire, around the 2:12 mark, a guitar comes in gently, on the waves of a delicious motherfucking sustain, and all of a sudden I'm fifty feet off the ground staring at whatever's coming my direction. Moments, like the first time I took this entire progression in, are fucking rare, and as I noticed my head tilting back and my eyes closing, I felt a moment's embarrassment for looking like a tool, but holy shitting shit balls on a fucking fire of holy fucking fuck, it gave me goosies and inspired me to laugh like a fucking madman.

There is something clever about If These Trees Could Talk's subtleness, and the quick-like pick-axe-esque pick action of their guitars, but regardless of the speed of their attack, without the intensity of the drums behind them, they remain deliciously peaceful. It's those moments, like in Barren Lands of the Modern Dinosaur, where the guitar may be awash in a cleanly reverberated pick out and you're watching the sun dip below the edge of your land, but until those drums just fucking destroy your comfortable little house on the prairie, the Trees haven't fully bloomed yet.

It's in the discreet and subconscious suggestion of anxiety that you might forget where you're going, but when everything comes to-fucking-gether inside the Red Forest, shit starts to pop the fuck off godthefuckdamnit.

If These Trees Could Talk absolutely fucking murder this album, making those scant stretches of beauty carry over into passages of absolute fucking holy god in heaven I could stab every motherfucker in front of me while laughing at the site of their bloodletting and still genuflect as a knight might upon the throne that sent him into battle.

As your encouragement officer in the game of life, I demand you give yourself over to Red Forest, as it is mindblowingly fucking gorgeous in its composition and get the fuck off your ass and protect your village like your father taught you fucking awesome.

My favorite post rock album of 2012 so far. Fucking HUGE balls.