Godspeed You! Black Emperor - Lift Your Skinny Fists Like Antennas To Heaven (Album Review)

 

Godspeed You! Black Emperor - Lift Your Skinny Fists Like Antennas To Heaven

(2000)

My copy: 2018 reissue by Constellation. 

Appearing three years after their immersive debut, Lift Your Skinny Fists Like Antennas To Heaven is veritably iconic amongst modern post-rock albums. The Canadian nine-piece expand and extrapolate on nearly every aspect of their prior two releases, and while their sophomore more-than-full-length release is immense in scope, it set a dangerous standard of complacency within its genre, spawning dozens of lazy clones (see Explosions In The Sky, etc.). 

The record is made up of four longform pieces that are composed of several smaller movements. “Storm” is the first collection, starting quiet and out of focus with clean guitar and horns: quite the contrast to the gloomy drone that opens their debut. Everything moves slowly and carefully with purpose, rising steadily like a machine warming up as string arrangements and easy-going drums lumber about. As the piece picks up steam, the melodies are noticeably jubilant and bright, though guitars bleed with reverb, keeping it from feeling gaudy. The first crescendo pays off, releasing the tension only for the rollercoaster to repeat, now with more complex melody and progressions: instead of one big buildup here there are a few minor rises with purely chaotic guitar tones. A more frightful tension is raised with unsettled strings before the drums lock into place, switching purely to tremolo guitar and hypnotic bass. The song spans multiple moods, but relies a bit too heavily on the crescendo payoff, which is the major downfall of the record. “Storm” eventually settles into a field recording of a shopping mart before being overwhelmed by distorted radio transmissions and a cathartic piano melody. These inventive ambient interludes are some of the most interesting bits of the album. 

The band again samples train sounds, now with a more hi-fi sheen and a deeper bed of drones. “Static” slithers through some of the band’s creepiest dark ambient moments, with further obscured radio signals, hypnotic beeps, and voices until everything is deferred to a manipulated sample of a preacher’s religious proclamations. Beautiful strings mourn over the esoteric speech, later absolving the disembodied voice of their duties so as to push into the next movement via a plotting bass riff. Some of the best build/release moments take place here, with all instruments taking turns trading melodies in the heaviest layering of the album. The track slowly builds up speed until it hits a blistering pace, with drums driving it further and further to the climax of feedback and droning. Everything is broken down with oscillating bass and cymbals that hiss like cornered animals in a dark cave. 

“Sleep” begins with their most iconic sample: that of an old man (credited as Murray Ostril) lamenting his childhood time at Coney Island.  Apart from the intro, this piece is the most straightforward set of instrumentals on the album. The chords are more mysterious at first, becoming more and more hopeful with each of the three main crescendos. The most notable aspect are the warped, howling tremolo guitars that mimic the vibrato calls of an opera singer. The tempo shifts and repetition is cleverly utilized to emphasize dynamics, but the novelty of the long form crescendo begins to wear a bit thin here.

Fortunately, “Antennas To Heaven” is the most imaginative piece on the album, beginning with a lo-fi recording of an old folk lullaby (“What’ll I Do With The Baby-O”) sung by Mike Moya who primarily provides guitar. Stacked reverb swallows everything before twinkly bells descend over ambient drones and spaced out percussion. The voices of children speaking French fade in as they sing and play together. Slow swaying strings ease listeners into comfort before the track abruptly launches into a jangled jam session with frantic bass. The fury of the drums comes to a close quickly, as more ambiance separates key melodic shifts. There is a final melodic push, with a last powerful buildup set to washed out cymbals and crying strings. Vocal drones then rise, as if mimicking angels before their impression is swept away. At the very end, everything peaks one final time with euphoric high-pitched choruses (could be heavily affected synth, guitar or even actual vocals) with what is fittingly labeled as “Antennas To Heaven.” 

The biggest trial is overcoming the album’s indulgent length, with some buildups feeling superfluous and predictable. Lift Your Skinny Fists Like Antennas To Heaven does feature some of the absolute highest points in the band’s catalog however, with deeply creative ambient passages supported by instrumentals carrying truckloads of emotion. Is this album partially to blame for reducing the reputation of post-rock to crescendo focused drivel? Sure, but at least GY!BE do it better than any of their cheap imitators.