The Vulnerability Of A Restless Alien
An enigmatic presence, virtually represented by the inane ego contrasted with the phrase ‘to thy own self be true’, The Frown is an extension of the reality the millennial faces in each moment of each day- hazy, discreet, complex and an echo of our choices.
Partnering up with Nicholas Nesbitt aka Klein Baas for their second album together, Eve Rakow allows for experimentation to take place in its duality. For one knows the core of lyrical content and the other progresses into the eventuality of the synth sound and softness when it complements the buoyant, but often shrieking compilation of voice.
This is evident in their latest offering W.A.N.D (We Are Not Dead) which was presented in its second coming at the KnexT Art Gallery in Cape Town. Initially on edge as the evening furthered along, the duo made their crowd wait till they were ready to be sucked up their stage. Getting impatient as 10pm turned into half past, and as quarter to approached, I very nearly started to leave for fear of boredom. A small industrial space with a garage door for an opening and an only cash bar, I felt the bottle of wine I had earlier wearing off slowly as The Frown made us wait for their existence. And it seemed like everyone knew/acknowledged that this was the way they led their fans, with bating breath and uncertainty- and watching groups huddle around conversation, I noticed no one had a problem with it.
Once called in, we were greeted to an ethereal screening of words and imagery that welcomed their fandom into the space. Klein Bass enters first, allowing his partner to embrace the stage. When Eve sings, the crowd brims wide eyed grins. When Eve steps towards the light, the front row starts to ease into their positions. And when Eve begins to perform, I see her.
I see vulnerability so fragile and restless and an energy so dynamic that is splits into two authenticities, I finally understand the music. Its intense dark rhythm paired up with the choking distraction of light and jolted dance synth exercises, I want to cry for all that it represents. For its heartache and drug induced lies; for its jaw dropping life shocks and its broken titbits of love- I want to run away so the stage can gift itself with warmth.
The distortion of alien-like consistencies reacting to the emotive under link of the tracks given over to the crowd, The Frown enters a partnership, where the territory is shared and respected. There is credit in each other’s work, which can be felt it’s in complicated version of basic harmony. I am unsure of how it inhabits me, so I just stare- for the blank gulp I take in its dare to be sincere, and for the intrigue that lies in the characters before me. I watch people sit and trickle off the ambience before them. I watch ecstasy fuelled eye drops come to life while bodies jolt in appraisal of a midnight being. Some swim in sunken movements, sliding their heads and bums in assessment. Others fold their arms waiting to be impressed. And in all of us, there is chaos- from claustrophobia, from erotic lighting and from rubbing off of strangers shoulders.
And even as I walk away from the memories of the evening and the chance of hearing those sounds again, I think of the forest, the ocean, the enigma surrounding the nature of their elements, and I realise- W.A.N.D is an evolving piece of art, finding parts or versions of itself in corners, in visibility and it reality.
