Vundabar – “Devil For The Fire”

Earlier this week, Boston trio Vundabar announced the release of their upcoming album Devil For The Fire, follow up to 2020’s Either Light. Along with the news came the release of the title track, also their official third single after the release of “Aphasia” and “Ringing Bell” as a pair earlier this May. Frontman Brandon Hagen explained the inspiration behind the track on Instagram, which has its roots in film noir and psychology:

“The subconscious and subconscious fear is a big theme in a lot of film noir so I had that on the mind – sequences of abstract and surreal images to convey an innerworld and whatnot…I was also burning through books on neuroplasticity… a science that attests to the human capacity for change and the mind’s elasticity. Everything we do can rewire our brain, the possibility for something new is always there: things shift continually. This was a solace in the midst of early covid when it was easy to lose that perspective and our worlds became small.”

After the discovery of neuroplasticity, Hagen’s father suffered a stroke that resulted in global aphasia, a disorder caused by damage to the parts of the brain that control language. Running back and forth between the studio and the hospital, Hagen watched over the past year as his father learned how to walk, eat, and speak all over again, and noted how this experience only emphasized, in his words, the “human potential for growth and change” despite both emotional and physical worlds dissolving: 

“The entire thing was surreal; the hospitals in the age of covid, the looming spectre of death hanging over us, the bizarre timing of his accident with what I’d been reading and writing, and going to work while it felt like something was shattering. This song feels very much charged with these events and when I listen to it I feel far away from it – which is good – happily things are going much better, my dad continues to inspire me to change and grow and still things shift continually.”

The song and accompanying music video are stunning; the inspiration from film noir comes through in the instrumentals, embedded in the sharp guitar melody that feel like small, calculated needle pricks. With the command “Begone!” to one’s demons, the chorus erupts, Hagen’s vocals changing from a coarse, jagged croon to a breathless falsetto; bassist Zack Abramo and drummer Drew McDonald act as the makeshift Greek chorus, chanting “the horror! The horror!” in between. The second verse marks a change to something more existential, desperate, even; “I wanna be reborn, but how many times do I gotta die?,” Hagen asks the void before the track becomes an organized cacophony (and the horse that’s been chasing him finally catches up). In other words, it’s catharsis in every sense of the word.

Devil For The Fire is out February 11.

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photo by CJ Harvey

Vundabar – “Aphasia”

Boston’s Vundabar recently released “Aphasia” (and B-side “Ringing Bell”), their first singles since last year’s full-length LP Ether Light. “Aphasia” attempts to compartmentalize immense, indescribable pain into a track less than three minutes long, which frontman Brandon Hagen explained earlier this week:  

“The creation of this song was sparked by my dad having a stroke that has resulted in global aphasia. That happening, on top of quarantine, produced a crisis within a crisis. The song originated as being about having difficulty describing the world and yourself, and then my pops’ stroke happened and it felt uncanny and fated.” 

Aphasia is an umbrella term for various different disorders; global aphasia, a disorder caused by damage to the parts of the brain that control language, is the most severe. And yet, despite this fact, Hagen’s vocals are deep and patient, the “do do do’s” following the first two short verses existing almost as a mantra to help remember what comes next, to help ground himself. But soon, it all seems to fall away; as the instrumentals swell, everything becomes even more esoteric, as if he is slowly losing control of his faculties, his grasp on his immediate landscape: “And now I’m screaming in a stranger’s palm / But I just can’t quite place the feeling / A swirling serpent was the floor / And odd man’s god it was the ceiling.”

Made more apparent by the crescendo of guitar, the world seems to be spinning, on fire, breaking apart, but despite the panic that sets in, everything still somehow feels so quiet, so impossibly contained. I can imagine something similar unfortunately occurs in aphasia patients; feeling so much internally, but with such limited capacity to express it. 

“Aphasia” and “Ringing Bell” are both out now.

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photo by Cj Harvey