Legendary art-rockers The Residents continue over five decades of immersive, avant-garde excellence with Doctor Dark. Their newest album resembles a modern rock opera, split across three acts and taking narrative inspiration from real-life events and figures. — set within a creative melding of rock, metal, industrial noise, and beyond. Orchestral arrangements, ranging from lush to grandiose, are a prominent factor as well — conducted and orchestrated by Edwin Outwater.
“This is probably The Residents most ambitious project in a while,” explains the San Francisco-based band’s spokesperson, Homer Flynn. “It’s based on two news stories. The character of Doctor Dark is based on Doctor Kevorkian. He is a character The Residents always found fascinating. There are primarily 3 characters: Doctor Dark, and then two teenagers.”
The latter two characters refer to the 1985 suicide attempts of 20-year-old James Vance and 18-year-old Ray Belknap in Reno, Nevada, which prompted a lawsuit against Judas Priest by the grieving parents — alleging the music corrupted their children. The events are chronicled in the documentary Dream Deceivers, which the band saw upon release and were fascinated by. Its inspiration comes full circle many decades later, intertwining that tragedy with Kevorkian’s story.
An introspective tranquility opens the album; forlorn strings, bird chirping, and sounds of a trickling creek introduce “Prelude / Metal Madness” with a theatrical pull. Wavering brass tones signal momentum and a hint of ominousness, furthered by growling bass and gritty guitar distortion. Scathing lyrical sentiments — “I hate you! You hate me! I hate you, too!” — complement the punk-ready abrasion to firmly establish the album’s first act, drawn in by a mixture of heavy guitar distortion, industrial noise, and metal-forward vigor. The more ardent rock expanses are often preceded, and complemented by, beautiful orchestration that ranges from lush to menacing.
The aptly entitled “Tension” is especially exemplary of the album’s gripping structural ascents and unsettling prowess. Blaring brass and eerie strings, resembling an old horror film, complement multiple layers of vocal expressions. As is also the case on the resonating “White Guys With Guns,” the sounds of gunshots incorporate with seamless, delectably jarring percussive appeal. “Life is just a jizzy pisshole full of farts and empty manholes,” the vocals let out, playing as a nihilistic and abrasively poignant push into the “everyone is imitating life,” fade-out in the middle. Sounds of heavy sobbing and somber strings follow, in addition to a broadcast-type snippet that continue to bolster the Doctor Dark / Kevorkian character.
The album’s second act shines more spotlight on the classical arrangements, often set against confessional vocal pushes — “I often think about my mother,” on the mourning “Remembering Mother,” for example — that continue a narrative of Doctor Dark from relatable humanity to mythic power. Here and through the second act, the character plays like a philosophical guide of sorts. “Survived” compels in its contrasts of glory-be illuminated religious references and darkly foreboding instrumentation, continuing themes of contemplating who to blame for tumult — from parents to music to religion to society itself. “Calm Before” exudes a relatability amidst plucky strings and warming organs, as the vocals admit “I was once just like you.” Doctor Dark’s narration feels vulnerable and soul-searching here, potentially resembling a meeting of souls between Mark and Doctor Dark; the audible sounds of anguish and then lulling strings — alongside references to choices within life — feels like a melding of two tortured inhabitants of their own undoing.
The final act of Doctor Dark plays cathartically in its fusing of the first two act’s aesthetics, from heavy rock passion to orchestral intrigue. “A Choice?” continues alluding to personal decision-making and emotions from souls in turbulent isolation. Recollections of pain and shame — “it’s rising like a big, dark, heavy cloud,” — continue into industrial textures, brass undercurrents, and further shot-like rhythmic elements. Album finale “Take Me to the River” brings back the trickling creek and birds-chirping from the opening track, akin to the cycle of life — beginning and ending with relative tranquility, though met with much raucousness in the moments in between. “I can see a river not far away,” vocals narrate, yearning for the river to “wash me away,” — in hopes for a better, more internally peaceful future or next life. Another achievement from The Residents, Doctor Dark is a riveting listening experience with grippingly thematic narration and eclectic tonal turns.
