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Diamanda Gal√°s, "Guilty Guilty Guilty"
This latest album by one of the greatest living singers is a celebration of the damned by the damned. It stands out in stark contrast to her more usual themes, a smirk and a wink to co- conspirators instead of the damning finger of accusation or cry for those who never got a chance to cry out. This change of tact makes Guilty Guilty Guilty one of her more instantly listenable albums. Instead of working myself up to listening to an hour or two of dejected misery, this is a far more accessible voyage through some of the not so dark ballads in Galás' songbook.
The ecstatic cheering of the audience is an unexpected introduction to a Diamanda Galás album. The rowdy crowd punctuate the album with occasional whoops and applause. This, along with the choice of songs for the evening's set, gives the impression of a satanic form of gospel music. On the opening song, "8 Men and 4 Women," Galás' distinctive piano style has an added jauntiness that is absent from much of her playing on previous albums.
With Guilty Guilty Guilty I cannot help but be reminded of Nick Cave's Kicking Against the Pricks album (probably helped by both artists covering "Long Black Veil"). Even though Galás is no stranger to doing covers, here there is that same dark humor that runs through Cave's covers. That being said, there are still moments where Galás can break us down into a sobbing mess. "Interlude (Time)" is heartbreaking, the delicately sung vocals and equally fragile piano sounding so haunting after the more rambunctious delivery of the songs previous to it. For a moment it almost sounds like someone else is occupying the microphone and piano stool.
There can be no mistaking the artist on "O Death," a topic that Galás is no stranger to. Whipping herself up into a frenzy, "O Death" is one of those classic Diamanda Galás moments where the tension is palpable and I am not sure if I am more afraid of death or the singer. This gives way to the album's finale, "Heaven Have Mercy," where the song made famous by Edith Piaf is accompanied by the sound of an air raid siren, conjuring up images of an occupied Paris during the Second World War.
Normally at the end of a Galás album I am in the mood for something else. The heaviness of the emotions wear me down and I need something else, anything else, to get over it. However, despite the sombre ending to the album, with Guilty Guilty Guilty I am more than happy to press play again. She will never be easy listening but this is certainly an easier listen than the more definitive Galás album which will always be something that is psychologically and physically taxing to listen to. Having an album like this is welcome as sometimes you need that hit but cannot take the pressure.
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