Diamanda Galas
Issue #35
Guilty Guilty Guilty (Mute)
By Noreen Sobczyk
Published: March 1st, 2008 | 12:28pm
You rub your eyes amid the fog and flickering flames, drawn as if by a siren's song toward the sound of ghouls moaning, banshees wailing, and a woman singing songs so sorrowfully you feel at once charmed, frightened, and transfixed. You have entered a cabaret in hell and Diamanda Galas is the headlining act. She sits solitary at her piano performing torch songs, murder ballads, and the blues in a way that only she can, slowly emoting as if in mourning and alternately mercurial, spitting lyrics as if exorcising a demon from her very soul. She sings at times like several entities are inside her producing a seemingly double-layered vocal as if in satanic stereo.
This is not a dream or nightmare. This is the new live disc by Galas and it creates a new genre all its own. Her four-octave voice and plodding yet thunderous piano style is unlike that of any other and makes performers like Peter Murphy sound light as a feather in comparison.
Guilty Guilty Guilty is perhaps Galas’ most accessible album. Though that statement seems an oxymoron, it’s true because, at its core, the record is a compilation of love songs. To enjoy the interpretations of these macabre ballads one must be exceedingly adventurous, enjoy the darkly bizarre, or have an affinity for all things avant-garde. The best description for Guilty is an amalgamation of Tom Waits, Yma Sumac, Nick Cave, Billie Holiday, the Exorcist’s Regan MacNeil, and Edith Piaf (whose signature song, "Heaven Have Mercy" is performed). Galas also interprets songs such as Johnny Cash's "Long Black Veil," the traditional “O'Death,” and jazz standard “Autumn Leaves.”
Aside from being an interesting and moving bit of music, Guilty Guilty Guilty is an oddly comforting reminder that other souls occasionally explore and plunder the depths of darkness and feel pain as intensely as we. It’s also a reminder that, at its base, the best music makes us feel connected in some way, even in seeming isolation.
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