Crystal Castles - “Celestica”
There’s a pretty big disconnect between Alice Glass and Ethan Kath in their grimy hipster hood-rat garb swilling cheap cans of beer in the middle of the day and the delicate, wounded sweep of “Celestica.” It’s a fitting illustration of the loose stylistic binary that defines Crystal Castles, something that was a lot easier to talk about back when you could point to moments of sharp, malicious ugliness that put the smoother stuff in perspective. Here, it’s a much subtler art. Kath does a great job of manipulating volumes, using the rise and fall of hissy white noise to punctuate the beginnings of phrases. And even though Glass sings in the softest and most vulnerable voice she can muster, they’re not afraid to sample it, chop it up, and pitch it down to a deep moan. I think that slippery fearlessness is what makes Crystal Castles’ 2010 output appealing: even if they’re not screaming at you nearly as much, their confidence is ironclad.
Crystal Castles - “Celestica”
Few bands are capable of reaching the extremes of intensity that Crystal Castles do. Much is made of their fearless wielding of 8-bit electronic squelches, piercing beats, and Alice Glass’ unnerving shrieks. “Xxzcxuzx Me,” “Doe Deer”—this band can be sonically brutal and a chaotic, messy sight to behold on stage (so I’ve heard). But anyone who follows them knows that those migraine-inducing tracks represent a clear minority in their catalog, that Crystal Castles’ real strength comes from refining that intensity into some of the most addictive dance floor jams around (“Crimewave,” “Courtship Dating,” “Vietnam”). As a listener, once you’ve wrapped your head around their twin impulses, you can reclaim a small sense of security. You can learn to let the flagellating screechers break down your resistance and pump you up for the slick booty-shakers. You can also wind up putting the band in a mental box—thinking you can’t be surprised by them anymore—but the one thing Crystal Castles refuse to be is boxed in.
I knew they could have a softer side (based on “Tell Me What to Swallow” from their debut), but I don’t think anyone anticipated something like “Celestica.” It’s definitely worthy of spinning in the club and fodder for extensive remix treatment, with its slick 4/4 house beat and excellent pacing of chord changes, which sound maestro Ethan Kath cuts up just enough to puncture any highfalutin ideas about pillowy orchestration. There’s also a cloud of distortion over the chorus and a roller-rink synth organ that doubles Glass’ voice throughout the entire song, helping blend her into the mix (at points reminding me of Debbie Deb’s “When I Hear Music”).
The sum of those effects pushes the song closer to electronic dream pop, but “Celestica” is far from flimsy or ethereal. The sparkly-eyed disco synth touches, the dynamic pop pacing of verses and choruses, and the periodic warping of the vocals keep it present and grounded. Of course, it’s Glass herself that tends to get the most credit here. She’s built her reputation as a shrill, confrontational brat (on stage and off), so to suddenly hear her cooing this lonely, gorgeous song is kind of a shock. “When it’s cold outside, hold me / don’t hold me,” she sings on the bridge, “when I choose to rest my eyes, coax me / don’t coax me.” There’s a conflicted mix of longing and self-imposed isolation in her voice, and while the lyrics aren’t always clear, it’s hard not to pick up on those sentiments when she sings “Follow me into nowhere” with conviction on the chorus.
Not that it matters much, but I’ve been fully aware of this song since it came out as a pre-release single leading up to Crystal Castles’ sophomore album, which dropped back in April. I mention it partly because I’ve been trying to skew my Wednesday song reviews toward brand new / mostly up-and-coming stuff and, in internet time, something a few months old might as well have been around for a year. More importantly, though, I mention it because I believe there can be a certain value—not always and not predictably, but on occasion—in waiting until the conversations and/or taste-making reviews on a new record have died down a bit. People who like to keep up with what’s current and cutting-edge can lose a vital chunk of patience and end up glossing over something great. Sometimes, the less occupied you are with chewing up and digesting, the more you open yourself up to unexpected beauty.
