Last Tape Before Doomsday: Rebecca Vernon (The Kee…

Welcome to our latest semi-regular… okay, first-time-in-a-long-time Decibel feature. Here, talented musicians from across the metalsphere provide us with their Last Tape Before Doomsday.

“The music I love the most is music that that raises the specter of the ugliness of our world, and holds out the vision of a better one. I know that music can be for fun. It can be piped into malls, and music can be danced to in clubs. I like that music as well. It’s just that the music I love the most is music that has the power to change the world.”

So says Rebecca Vernon, the sole musician behind dark folk act The Keening, and the former lead songwriter (guitarist and lead vocalist) for the acclaimed doom band SubRosa. As a deep thinker and a medium for profound emotion, one who carefully imbues her work with clear political, humanistic and spiritual resonance, it’s no surprise to see Vernon’s Last Tape Before Doomsday laden with sincere tracks by like-minded creators who’ve made legacies out of exploring the darkest recesses of human experience.

From the souls entwined art of PJ Harvey and Nick Cave & the Bad Seeds to British post-punk’s finest in the form of The Cure and Joy Division, to the sludge metal nihilism of Eyehategod and Corrupted, decades of sonic suffering and thematic profundity are laid bare across this 10-track mixtape (plus three bonus additions)—all of which give us a unique glimpse at some of the essential muses which have informed Vernon’s development as a person and as one of the finest composers in contemporary underground music. Emotional-support doom metal forever!

PJ Harvey, “Hardly Wait” from 4-Track Demos (Island Records, 1993)

“It’s extremely difficult to pick just one PJ Harvey track out of everything she has released because nearly every second of every track from her first five or six albums had an immense impact on me. This is one is one of my favorites, though, with its haunting refrain, ‘In my glass coffin, I am waiting.’ The first time I heard PJ Harvey in 1993, she was a revelation and a sledgehammer—unapologetic, authentic, brazen, rough, discordant, seductive, primal, unwilling to make herself palatable, deceptively simple underneath layers of meaning and symbolism, a true vocal acrobat and lyrical poetess exploding with life and power. Influenced by blues artists like Robert Johnson and Howlin’ Wolf, she taught me that simplicity is the best avenue for brutality and abrasion; repeating, short, decisive riffs can rain down on listeners’ heads like an anvil. I only had the pleasure of seeing her once, in San Diego in the early 2000s, but luckily just bought tickets with friends to see her again this October in Portland and Seattle.”

Red Bennies, “Sleep,” from Famil (Rest 30 Recordings, 1996)

“Everyone who has read an article about SubRosa has read about Red Bennies’ influence on me. They would be a special band if they existed now, but to come straight outta the barren cultural desert of American Fork, Utah, in 1996, inventive and original, with no one guiding them, no one holding their hand… is pretty inexplicable. Sleep, Jimi Hendrix  and Black Pearl were their main influences. It’s hard to choose just one song, but this one really captures the abrasive, low-tuned sludge-metal-tastic attack of 1996 Red Bennies, their big, fat, defined riffs with plenty of screeching guitar solos, the darkness and danger, chromatic scales, grinding irregular time signatures (7/4 at the beginning and 6/8 later, and then 4/4), sudden transitions into slower breakdowns and outros, scathing, caterwauling vocals, confrontational punk lyrics—deceptively simple lyrics delivered with bile and attack. These recordings can’t capture how decimating they were live. Besides Sunn O))) and Dinosaur Jr., they were probably the loudest band I’ve heard live and were notoriously banned from certain clubs in Utah County because of their volume.”

Joy Division, “Day of the Lords,” from Unknown Pleasures (Factory Records, 1979)

“I am in love with nearly every note of every song Joy Division has written; their darkly melodic, addictive, memorable hooks, round, warm, yet somehow jagged riffs, paired with lyrics about the despair of modern life, political corruption and war. There is something very special about the musicians and groups that start a movement—who come out of nowhere like bats out of hell, as if the muse whispered directly into their ear—unadulterated inspiration from the headwaters. ‘Day of the Lords,’ though, is my very favorite of their songs. Its subject matter is not definitive, but whenever I hear it, I think about the Lords in the UK’s House of Lords making decisions about war, and of WWII and the Holocaust: ‘I’ve seen the nights, filled with bloodsport and pain/And the bodies obtained, the bodies obtained.’ This is another band that was authentic, that meant every word they said, that was strongly emotional, and another band that showed that you can scale mountains with well-executed simplicity.”

ISIS, “Celestial (The Tower),” from Celestial (Escape Artist, 2000)

“I first heard this song playing in a club sound system in between bands at a CMJ metal showcase, covering the festival for Salt Lake UnderGround (SLUG) Magazine. My first thought was, ‘This is similar to the music I want to write, and they’re already nailing it, so maybe I don’t need to write music after all.’ I asked the sound guy who the band was and he pulled out the CD and showed me the orange and white splattered face with ‘1515’ on it and said he didn’t know. I searched high and low on Google for ‘1515’ and couldn’t find anything. A year later, in 2002, I was working at The End Records, and the owner, Andreas, had me listening to several albums a day, introducing me to band after band in the metal underground. Finally, one day he handed me an orange-and-white splattered CD with ‘1515’ on it and I finally learned about ISIS, and not only ISIS, but Neurosis, and the existence of a sludge metal underground that I didn’t know existed. I was lucky enough to get to see ISIS open for Tool in the early 2000s in Salt Lake City.”

Neil Young, “Cortez the Killer,” from Zuma (Reprise, 1975)

“I don’t listen to much singer-songwriter/folk music—I feel like there are a lot of very self-aggrandizing singer-songwriters out there—but if I had to point to one folk-driven storyteller that has influenced me, it would be Neil Young. His instincts for guitar-playing, soloing, lyrics and riff-writing are inspiring. I rarely hear him overplay; he is there to serve the music. I love almost every song he’s written, but ‘Cortez the Killer’ is my favorite. I am drawn to the free-wheeling, creative structure of the song; the meandering intro with lyrics not coming in until the 3:22-mark. It is a beautiful and tragic anti-colonial ballad. With what is happening in Palestine currently, it is a great time to reflect on the cost of imperialism. We think we’re above the folly of our ancestors, when really, we haven’t seemed to learn anything from the bloodbaths of the past. Human nature never surprises me, and never fails to disappoint me.”

Corrupted, “Gekkou No Daichi,” from Garten der Unbewusstheit (Nostalgia Blackrain, 2011)

“Corrupted are one of my favorite doom bands, and this is my favorite song by them. Like Samothrace, Bell Witch, Wolvserpent and YOB, they are part of an elite group of doom bands that wed an almost reverent sobriety with elegant, minimal execution and a dark, stirring, melodicism that takes center stage. The thoughtful compositions, the careful buildups that take time to breathe before flying, characterize this type of doom, which is my favorite style of the genre. It had a huge influence on me and SubRosa’s songwriting—especially when it came to atypical, spacious, suite-like song structures. And of course, anything that influenced SubRosa’s sound directly or indirectly influenced The Keening’s sound. My favorite part of this song starts right after the 20-minute mark (20:13).”

M.I.A., “Bad Girls,” from Matangi (Interscope, 2012)

“I love M.I.A. This is probably my favorite song she has done, along with the music video that accompanies it, filmed in Morocco, full of car stunts and drag racing, at least partially to show solidarity for women’s driving rights in Saudi Arabia. Like PJ Harvey, M.I.A. is one of those fearless, wholly original female artists who, with her style, attitude and political messaging, really blazed a path for artists of all genders to follow. Her music welds together hip-hop, electronic music, and lyrics informed by street slang in new and inventive ways. She has always been embroiled in controversy. Her music is a Trojan Horse: deceptively playful and catchy, it carries heavy reflections on refugee life, global inequalities and oppression. Her first hit, ‘Paper Planes,’ was banned in her home country of Sri Lanka. I admire artists who value their integrity over their careers and playing it ‘safe’ on topics that matter to them.”

Nick Cave and the Bad Seeds, “Jubilee Street,” from Push the Sky Away (Bad Seed Ltd, 2013)

“Nick Cave was born to be an artist, and most of the time, I feel like we don’t deserve him. Amazingly enough, out of a discography as powerful as his, this song was easy to pick as my favorite. There was something about ‘Jubilee Street’ that grabbed me from first listen. From its more laid-back, strolling first section, to the gorgeous string segment and gradual buildup, to the pickup at 2:56, the vibraphone bells that follow, and the final glorious peak, where the main character says, ‘I’m transforming, I’m vibrating… look at me now,’ I think this song is perfection. It is about the client of a blackmailing prostitute who turns to murder to free himself from society’s indictments. This song captures quintessential Nick Cave to me—the irony, sadness, lyricism and story-telling that evokes a bygone era somewhere in the gothic South, Appalachia, or the middle of a blighted modern city—it also evokes, for me, themes of his book And the Ass Saw the Angel, one of my favorite books, and one of the characters of which the SubRosa song ‘Cosey Mo’ is named after.”

Eyehategod, “Inferior and Full of Anxiety,” from Confederacy of Ruined Lives (Century Media, 2000)

“When I heard Confederacy of Ruined Lives, it was another moment in my early listening years when I became dimly aware that there was a whole movement of sludge metal out there, and in the case of Eyehategod, a vein of Southern sludge that felt adjacent to bands like Weedeater and Dixie Witch—and, although not from the Southern US, even Electric Wizard and Sleep—but much more abrasive. Eyehategod was the first band I’d heard since Red Bennies that was doing something even remotely similar—down to the unexpected tempo changes, pummeling, abrasive thick riffs, slow breakdown, and heaps of relevant anger. I was sold. I met Eyehategod at a festival or two and always had a soft spot in my heart for Mike, who was wearing a sweater with—I think it was a teddy bear—for one of those times. SubRosa was being considered for a tour with Eyehategod at one point after More Constant Than the Gods came out, but the tour ended up falling through, unfortunately. I don’t know if I ever got over that.”

F-Minus, “Paid to Listen,” from Wake Up Screaming (Hellcat Records, 2003)

“I really loved F-Minus back in the early 2000s (they broke up in 2004, and I only got to see them live once—R.I.P.). They were a hardcore punk band with enough melodicism and hooks to be nearly catchy. This, their last record, was recorded by Steve Albini. I was really inspired by their female bassist, Erica Daking, back at a time when there weren’t that many females in punk and metal bands. She sang a lot of the songs with frontman/guitarist Brad Logan (also of Leftover Crack) and I loved her vocal tone. I still wish I could sing like her. Their political messaging struck a chord with me—again, they were a band that meant every word they sang. This song was by far my favorite, probably because I seem to always like the slowest song on any punk record. In ‘Paid to Listen,’ Erica’s incredible vocals are heard clearly, SPITTING out the song’s vitriolic, enraged lyrics calling out the greed of capitalism. I could listen to this song on repeat for hours.”

The Cure, “Untitled,” from Disintegration (Fiction, 1989)

“The Cure had a huge impact on me from the time I was 12 or so. I have spent more time listening to The Cure and dancing to The Cure in goth clubs in my 20s than I did sleeping, probably. ‘Untitled’ has been my favorite song of theirs for as long as I can remember, with its accordion intro opening up into spacious tom-work and gorgeous guitar melodies, and returning to the melancholy, lonely sound of the accordion at the end, although I love everything they’ve written. The Cure’s songwriting is unsurpassed and an inspiration to me; how they bring together ultra-melodic licks, melancholy overtones and simple and heavy lyrics in a way that is never melodramatic and overblown, and always so richly, deeply, emotional. The songcraft that goes into their transitions, the flow, the beginnings and endings of their songs, always seems very deliberate and intentional to me, which usually means countless hours of merciless editing and thought. I have seen The Cure live twice and the second time, it was for three hours, which felt like an hour and a half.”

OM, “Unitive Knowledge of The Godhead,” from Pilgrimage (Southern Lord, 2007)

“The buzzy, full-throated riffs of OM mixed with the dense, mystical lyrics, world instruments and strings always seemed greater than the sum of its parts to me. The riffs are hypnotic, transfixing, grand, dark and heavy, and paired with the solemn, chanting lyrics, strangely healing. I think OM fits well with bands like Earth and Grails—bands that dare to search, to travel in dreams, to look beyond the surface of the physical, to count the stars, and nearly go mad from the journey. Then they have to make music about what they saw as the only way to stay sane. This song is one of my favorite OM songs, but I also love this whole album. ‘Beseech choir through a grey veiled—arrival light/And weeps no more onto the setting sun where efforts fade.’ Also, OM live is transcendent.”

Metallica, “Welcome Home (Sanitarium),” from Master of Puppets (Elektra, 1986)

“I started listening to Metallica at the same time as Guns N’ Roses. This song is tied with ‘Fade To Black’ as my two favorite Metallica songs. I first heard Metallica when I was 12, through MTV, my friends’ older brothers who were into Metallica, and my skater friend. I was in awe of the metalheads at my middle school who looked moody and troubled in their … And Justice for All shirts, and yet, like they were plugged into some higher truth that escaped us all. ‘Sanitarium’ follows the structure of Metallica’s long slow burner ballads that break into verse, chorus, verse, chorus and heavy outros that never, ever gets old, and has been such an influence on my songwriting and most metal composers, in some form or other. I think Black Sabbath started it, but Metallica continued the legacy well.”