Words by Sean Moeller, Illustration by Johnnie Cluney, Recording engineered by Mike Gentry
You can draw whatever you'd like from a Kylesa song, but something tells me that we're supposed to wind up somewhere that sends chills down our backs. It's supposed to be a place that's not necessarily frightening, but a place where we're surrounded by many of the people and scenarios that would either make us hyperventilate or practice our road raging.
It comes at us in a way that's not super intimidating, but it could get sinister in a hurry, if the conditions were right for it. It's a swelling - a great ocean of energy, balled up and building steam hundreds of miles away, preparing to splatter itself all over whatever's bound to be in its way come landfall. It's just churning and getting set to deliver one of the greatest suicides a body of water has ever delivered. It travels by the light of the moon, in pitch blackness, so that it gets to us with little warning.
It's out there and you can feel the wind kicking up when Phillip Cope sings "Unknown Awareness." It's a physical throbbing that he conveys. It's something that's cooking, something that's creating a definite tension. With "To Forget," Laura Pleasants sings about something - actually someone - fucking with her mind. It's gotten into her and it's moving around like a spider, turning things on and off like a spazz. It's knocking shit over, tracking mud all over the carpets, flipping her off from the inside, tormenting internally with impressive resilience. It's enough to make you wonder what's going to happen next - what's to come? Someone will pay for this. Or it could be two someones. It could be one of those situations where both people fire at the same time and everyone sorta knows that nobody won. The anger prevailed.