I Was Born Beneath the Dying Sun

I remember the first time I heard a song by Swans. It was "Saved." My friend Cathy, one of the Goth Goddesses on my college campus, was playing it in her room while I was visiting. I was instantly attracted to it - it was folksy, beautiful and uplifting, yet at the same time, earth-shatteringly depressing.

She made fun of me for liking it.

Apparently all the goths I knew at the time - and there were plenty - were required to purchase and immediately memorize anything Michael Gira released, even if they hated it. It was a rule of the subculture. So by listening to it while I was visiting her, Cathy was performing a sort of goth community service. (I must confess that after I got more deeply involved with their catalog, I understand completely the need to own and memorize everything they ever did up to that point.)

Even as the subculture elite made fun of me, I rushed out and purchased a copy of this maligned CD. Its Robert Mapplethorpe cover called to me as I entered the music store, and I happily succumbed to its magical visage as I carted it up to the cash register.

While my Swans-enthusiast friends suffered through The Burning World, I reveled in it. I thought it was gorgeous, start to finish (excluding Jarboe's dirge-like cover of "Can't Find My Way Home," which I could do without). I would, to the consternation of my pickier friends, play it constantly for the next several years.

Swans were for people who had graduated from The Smiths' playful self-loathing and wanted to get nestled down into some serious, deep-dark depression. M. Gira and his compatriot Jarboe were NOT fucking around when it came to misery.

From "Jane Mary, Cry One Tear"

I live in an empty house
There's no one there but memory and me
But I loved a woman once
One hundred years ago
For a while

When she left here she was filled hatred
And with a second child
Now I've heard nothing ever changes
But nothing I touch has stayed the same
Everything just turns to poison
That I have loved or made
So bury my children's children
In a deep and lonely grave
Anything is a cause for sorrow
That my mind or body has made.

Do you see what we're dealing with here? How could anyone NOT want to listen to it?!?

After I learned all there was to know about Swans, I realized that yes, The Burning World was a HUGE departure from their previous releases like Children of God - primarily industrial, grating, throbbing, aggressive, and malevolent.

I loved Children of God along with all of Swans' other releases that I had acquired, but The Burning World was and always will be my favorite. When I hear it, I recall some of the best memories of my life. My less stuck-up friends and I, we would all gather 'round in a klatch, Olympia beers in hand, and scream the lyrics to "God Damn the Sun" along with the CD. And we meant each and every word.



When their next album, White Light From the Mouth of Infinity was released, I went to see their promotional concert at Masquerade in Atlanta, Georgia. I was amazed by Jarboe's defiant hatred of her audience - she would sulk out on stage, belt out her number, then shoot a glare at us as if she wanted to kill us. Then she'd turn her back to the crowd and hobble back to her corner of the stage, where she was doing who-knows-what between songs.

The audience was just as baffling. The place was packed, mostly by black-wearing Harbingers of Death (myself included), and they all acted so nonchalant and bored by the fact that they were there witnessing their idols live and in person right there on the stage. The smoked, they shot tired glances toward one another, they lingered in the back of the auditorium. No, they were not enthusiastic. No, they did not want to be alive. Yes, they were gracing Swans with their presence, and Swans should be happy about it.

My relationship with Swans fizzled out after Love of Life was released. I don't know if I was becoming less "teen-style" depressed, sick of hearing about other people's depression, or what. From time to time, though, I still listen to them. They're still great. You should listen, too.

It is a sad fact that The Burning World is out of print. If you want a copy, you can pay $218.18 for it on amazon.com.

Or you can click here.

Some Swans albums have been reissued. Many, to the detriment of the world, remain out of print. If you're lucky, you can find them - but most people who have them won't let them go. Listen and realize why.