Yes, I want to spit out the fake names
that settlers call these ancient rivers.
Yes, I want to rip out the roads from the map,
like veins from the cadaver of a killer.
A Stick And A Stone’s latest offering, Conspire, manifests itself as both a place of sanctuary and a cry of rebellion, plunging boldly into profound tonal darkness and ascending toward radiant summits. Philadelphia artist Elliott Miskovicz leads this diverse collective with a voice that drifts gracefully yet firmly through experimentation, embracing subtlety and raw intensity in equal measure. From whispered prayers to eruptions of primal sound, Conspire navigates deftly between meditative calm and insurgent clamour as seamlessly as the artist straddling their Arizona and Philadelphia bases.
The album vibrates with immediacy, every track an instinctive reply to contemporary strife. Initial tracks unfold softly, ghostly harp strings by Myles Donovan entwining delicately with Billy Ray Boyer’s sorrowful viola. These gentle harmonies imprint the first hints of quiet revolt. But soon enough, the layers thicken and fracture; Olivia Cadence Luxe’s drums swell into tempestuous crescendos, and Wren Radix’s sax bursts forth in unbridled frenzy, exhilaratingly free and feral. Benjamin Schurr’s dissonant synthesizers stab through the atmosphere, while Rhys Jewell’s cello moves with solemn grace. The collaboration feels both meticulously coordinated and fiercely liberated, building controlled chaos around Miskovicz’s vocal arcs.
Conspire’s political pulse runs deep, weaving rally chants and children’s hopeful voices through animal cries and elemental rhythms, anchoring the work in visceral urgency. Ecological disaster, warfare, and identity merge effortlessly, fostering a unified voice amid turbulence. Echoing the expressive depth of artists such as Zola Jesus, Dead Can Dance, Loreena McKennitt, Steeleye Span, and Philip Glass, the album conjures rich symbolism and an impressive palette of sound.
In The Birds Are Spiraling Backwards, perseverance resonates against personal and global anxieties. Drifting in mostly a cappella tones with medieval choral highlights, the song invokes resilience, grounding listeners amid spiraling uncertainties. Microbial Relatives poignantly contrasts childlike innocence with existential dread, illuminating unseen microbial connections beneath our shared humanity.
Cartographer’s Wrench confronts colonial erasure head-on, demanding reclamation of suppressed histories and identities. Its imagery defies imposed boundaries, urging authentic rediscovery of natural and ancestral bonds. Meanwhile, Carving Out A Doorway underscores collective endurance, emphasizing unity amidst adversity, symbolizing transformation through mutual struggle. White Moth Wing Mountain: Oblivion softly evokes spiritual escape from looming calamity, employing natural metaphors to portray serenity amid chaos, while Rinse/Repeat addresses historical traumas: Auschwitz, the Trail of Tears, reflecting soberly on cyclic suffering and healing’s slow progress.
In fierce resolve, Kill Him addresses generations of violence against women, its crescendo echoing solidarity and protective fury. Exile and Pride challenge the medical industry’s deceptions, reclaiming autonomy over bodily knowledge, while instrumental narratives like Red Planet and White Moth Wing Mountain: Adrenaline integrate children’s voices amidst ghostly vocals, imparting eerie intimacy.
Ultimately, Conspire emerges from societal fringes to speak universally. Elliott Miskovicz and their collaborators have sculpted an album deeply humane, bravely vulnerable, and undeniably profound.
Listen to Conspire below and order the album here.
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