Jesu - Opiate Sun - CD (2009)

Labels: Caldo Verde Records
Review by: Joe Callaghan

It’s winter now, so it’s time to trade in that sunshine pop punk and joyous, colourful indie pop with despondent, wretched droning. You’re seeing less and less daylight as each day passes, there’s ice on the ground, and your ears and fingertips are red raw from the bitter pounding from Jack Frost himself. Whoever decided it was the season to be jolly was an absolute loon! Opiate Sun’s release fell just on the brink of Autumn, as the miserable mindset sinks in. It’s wet and cold, and you have to start saving your coppers for the annual financial disaster that is the birth of Christ “” So the mood has already been adequately set. As much as I like Jesu, an EP is certainly enough Jesu for one listen. I find the full lengths over indulge me in my quest to be completely bummed out by slow, enervated monotony, so luckily there are just 4 cuts here, all clocking in around a fairly modest 6 minute mark. Opiate Sun is arguably Jesu’s slickest outing so far, sounding much more prominent and punishing than previous releases. The layers of thunderous down tuned guitars ring more perfectly than ever, boasting much more of a mid-section than before, as previous efforts have always sounded a little scooped. But that’s the anally retentive, guitar-tone lunatic in me forcing his way into this review. It’s difficult to keep that quiet when Jesu revolve around walls of low, belly rumbling guitar sound, so I can only apologise for him. The opening track stands out quite considerably, as it sports quite an eerie but also delightful vocal melody beneath the boisterous grinding noise, but who am I trying to kid? Most Jesu songs all sound the same anyway, but what tips this above previous Jesu records is that it just sounds better than ever. The production Jesu should have always had has been nailed on, and it’s a pleasure to listen to, in the most depressing way. It’s a dawdling, abject record, continuing Jesu’s tried and tested formula. It’s painfully unhurried, the guitars are tuned down a flight of stairs, the songs last about a fortnight each and nothing really happens, ever. It’s impossible to explain what it is I like about Jesu. Their records are more therapeutic than interesting, I suppose. The kind of record you’d crank up through a pair of massive headphones whilst laying on the floor as it slowly caves your head inwards, and instead of forgetting all your problems, you realise you’ve got more than you thought. Jesu provide a very welcome break from busy, awkward, rigid music, music that is a challenge to keep up with, with angular, mathematical signatures and general discordance and music that bursts in and out of volume ranges and loud/quiet dynamics. Jesu pound layers and layers of swelling, monstrous guitars and warble semi-audible melodies which are only just a little louder than a whisper, all whilst a whole spectrum of swirling, engorging sounds float along the very bottom of the mix. It’s preposterously loud, without ever being unpleasantly harsh or abrasive, to accompany those dark, miserable winter mornings.