Carey’s Cold Spring
What became apparent on Paul’s Tomb: A Triumph is that Carey Mercer had started to stagnate as a songwriter. During a phone interview after its release, Mercer lamented with me whether or not he should continue to make music. What happened on that album is Mercer no longer had anything to struggle against (he had triumphed!), but struggle had always been one of the most important sources of inspiration for him. On Blackout Beach’s Fuck Death, Mercer took his ancient rage and turned it against the absolute master: death. This was a positive progression for Mercer as a songwriter, but the bad karma generated from it was enough to make him recoil. So out of this comes Carey’s Cold Spring. An album much more organic and inviting than any we have heard. Gone is the punk rock cynicism—he’s telling us to follow our dreams. Gone are the left-brained drum marches, to be replaced by soothing drum rolls. But most importantly is the recognition of the limitations of his art. Mercer may have failed to realize his dreams of violently overthrowing the world, but he still has us, his fans, and to us he gives his greatest gift: his art.
— Dana Corrigan
Dana hosts The Sound Travels Tuesday’s from 6:30-8:00PM