All is quiet on the eastern front. Well, it is in Karate's Boston quarters, at least.
ALL IS QUIET ON THE EASTERN FRONT. WELL, it is in Karate’s Boston quarters, at least. On ‘The Bed Is In The Ocean’, their third album, Karate resume their explorations into pensive, slow-burning jazzcore and stream of subconsciousness prose. And, as always, it’s a beautiful trek.
Everywhere you turn, emotions are taut yet confused. A constant Iyrical theme develops whereby corporeal rage battles for space with world-weary cynicism and scholarly analysis. Sometimes you feel vocalist Geoff Farina’s outlook is so bleak he shouldn’t even be on the planet let alone in America – where all the great injustices of civilisation seem more absurd and desensitised. Still, for the sake of great noise, they battle on.
Despite Karate’s muso background, Farina’s inspiration is pure and simple. On ‘There Are Ghosts’ he takes great poetic solace in nature: [I]”That famous sound that the snow makes under my feet when a snowfall too cold for a snowball falls/And saves me from my impending week”[/I].
Sorrowful as it gets? Maybe. A necessary sonic experience? You bet.