The space between every love is filled with vigilance in preparation for future threat. This threat is not so much pain as failure and, above all, fatigue. Even the beginnings, when love seems at its most accessible, are disturbing. In spite of this we advance into the turmoil because we are inebriated with love.
Dominik Suchy’s third album admits all this as a quality of love. Disembodied and denied to be gloom or bliss, love is revealed to be a raw process at full length. This makes for emotionally hypercharged music that is more inevitable than tense. The record unfolds, for all its ruptures and weight, as familiar. It is a music of pathos, because it benefits from the emotional knowledge that already resides in you.
The universality of this angle allows for compositions that are less than opulent. A focus on the mass of sound // verticality leads to a bareness that sets “Every Love…” apart from Suchy’s previous works. At times sonically overwhelming and rhythmically ambiguous, it should be approached as free jazz rather than post-club.
Every Love Is an Exercise in Depersonalisation on a Body Without Organs Yet to Be Formed does not submit to the weariness of love // Weltschmerzen does not submit to the weariness of the world.
