Dean Roberts - Not Fire (2020)

Not Fire is the first album from Berlin-based songwriter Dean Roberts in 12 years, and his comeback arrives during apocalyptic times. It’s not an album about someone who’s found hope or love despite everything; Roberts sounds exhausted, and his album is as ugly and as bleak as life often is. For those who’ve been in the pits and succumbed to self-destructive nihilism, Not Fire is a reminder of how hellish it all can be.

Sonically, Not Fire is murky and battered and melancholy. Guitars clang incessantly, drums lurch without vigor—there’s hardly a moment where one doesn’t feel placed in a barren wasteland, left to wander aimlessly. On “Say After Me,” a melange of noisy guitar strums and plucks constantly ring out without any impression of oncoming closure. In the song’s final passage, Roberts slides his pick down a guitar string, the resulting sound a thunderous roar, the final bellowing of bottled-up feelings. Not Fire can sound a lot like a pained desire for release, a wish to scream into the emptiness like Roberts does on the album cover.

Nothing here feels cathartic, however. If anything, every note just propagates uneasiness, something that’s fiercely evident on the nearly 10-minute centerpiece “Heron.” Reed instruments and wolf-like howls imbue the piece with anxious tension. Frightening as the music may sound, Roberts sings of acceptance (“There is no blistering sun ’cause the summer’s just gone”). The song’s final third is wordless, but you can still sense his mournful presence.