Priest=Aura
by The Church
REVIEWS and COMMENTS
The Church's masterpiece, Priest=Aura saw the band almost entirely abandoning the attempts at accessibility that had plagued the hit-or-miss Gold Afternoon Fix, in favor of sprawling, shimmering, anxiety-tinged compositions and their most abstract, evocative lyrics to date. It's remarkably cohesive, devoid of weak spots, and masterfully sequenced, from an enigmatic beginning, to a pleasantly opiated midsection, to a dissonant, paranoid conclusion. One of my all-time favorites.
If this release was dusted for fingerprints vocalist/bassist/songwriter Steve Kilbey could easily be convicted of first degree artistry.
After last year's glorious Gold Afternoon Fix, easily the Church's most engaging album to date with its mix of moodiness and madness, it seemed this band should finally get all the attention they richly deserved. They didn't.
So did the Church think "now how do we arrange songs so people will fawn over us?" Of course not, they don't play those kind of games. They leave that for the Teenage Fanclubs of the world. The Church is a little older than that in their musical wisdom.
Instead, they dove even deeper into their reserve of musical magic, producing an album of even more moodiness and madness.
Priest=Aura shimmers with the typical Church passion, but underlying this album is a uneasy sense of despair. There's always been a sense of cynicism creeping about the edges of the Church's sound, but here human nature is questioned, analyzed and sent packing. Through their very music the Church seems to be wandering about peering into the shadows of people and recoiling in annoyance. Not with disgust, not with horror, but an elegant annoyance. It's more a headshake of 'how could they be that way' then a accusatory pointed finger of rage.
But it stands to reason that such an album would be unrelievedly grey and pedantic, correct? Wrong. And therein lies why the Church make such intriguing sounds... beautiful, harmonic sounds which convey that sense of world weariness without destroying the music's bright soul. Who knows how they do it, they don't know, we don't care as long as their albums continue to exhibit such a rare love of music.
Like a gracious oasis in a sea of musical despair, the Church are at once part of the landscape but completely separate. Arrest them all for musical magic and may the sentencing be for them to continue on the intriguing path they've always taken. Severe punishment enough for all of us, don't you think?
A classic.
'Priest=Aura' is another Church LP built on sturdy, not to mention studious, musical foundations but lacking a knockout punch.
At times the Church sound uncannily like U2, then James and then Lloyd Cole. Of course, they have been going long enough to claim it is they who have been plagiarised but, if they have been ripped off and overtaken then they only have themselves to blame for failing to add any dynamics to their cool and careful style.
'The Disillusionment'[sic] sounds like a shoddy pub rock band tarted up for the Royal Variety Performance and singing Pink Floyd's 'Another Brick in The Wall', while 'Chaos' is an unbearable exercise in crashing art guitar wank—all nine minutes of it.
Throughout this marathon 14-track LP you're hoping that The Church will rock out and scream something either unpleasant or essential. Anything, in fact, to save us from the sheer pedestrian nature of this record. The Church, alas, simply don't have it in them. (2)
The opening seconds of "Priest = Aura" are exactly what you'd expect from this veteran Australian outfit: dark and dreamy. That's the band's trademark.
This signature spaciness has made the Church moderately successful in the alternative rock business. The closest they came to widespread fame was in 1988 with "Under the Milky Way," from the album "Starfish."
There isn't an obviously marketable single on the new, 65-minute offering -- at least nothing that will significantly expand the group's audience. But you get the idea that's not really what frontman/bassist Steve Kilbey is out to do. He and his mates, is seems, play for themselves first and the record-buying public second.
At least that attitude is respectable. If the Church wanted to have their mug shots on every kid's bedroom wall, they have the songwriting talent to do so. But as demonstrated on most cuts on "Priest = Aura," Kilbey and Co. have resigned themselves to their dreary, unexcitable personas. They've been that way for more than a decade.
That's not to say every song is boring. In fact, "Priest = Aura" sounds much better than 1990's mediocre "Gold Afternoon Fix," which featured the single "Metropolis." After a couple of modest tracks at the start, the new release finds momentum with "Feel," "Dome" and "Kings." The former has a tint of a hip-hop beat, which marks new territory for the Church. The latter shows why Marty Willson-Piper is one of the more respected guitarists to come out of the modern rock category.
Listening to the Church is not easy. You have to understand the complete absence of upbeat vibes. You have to understand that the Church is a straight-faced, serious bunch of musicians. However, "Priest = Aura" will probably be a source of worship for the band's established fanbase.
Another Australian band (although its members long ago claimed they were world citizens) that has at times settled into its own familiar territory is the Church. Not so with its new album Priest = Aura. This record is an absolute crackerjack. Sure, Steve Kilbey's reclining vocal stylings occasionally threaten the 14 superb compositions with unwanted dirge status, but not even that can detract from the possibility that this might be the Church's finest moment.
There are many pleasant surprises on Priest = Aura. For a start, every song is given maximum room; three run for more than six minutes and the album's highpoint, Chaos, clocks in at 9:34. There is also humor, like the lyrical reference to Al Jolson(?) on Ripple, the beatbox on Feel and some music hall touches. After the predictable guitar meanderings of 1990's Gold Afternoon Fix, the Church has turned out a stunner.
The commercial success of 'Under the Milky Way' and the 'Starfish' album in 1988 may have taken the ambient and atmospheric strains of one of Australia's longest-staying outfits to a wider audience, but four years on the razor-sharp songwriting talents of Steve Kilbey and the guitar interplay of Marty Willson-Piper and Peter Koppes seem still supposedly too subtle for mainstream consumption.
A pity, because 'priest = aura' is among their best and most wide-ranging albums, with a far looser and ultimately more satisfying feel than their last work, 'Gold Afternoon Fix'.
The current single, 'Ripple', just about sums up what The Church is about today, shimmering guitars and laconic vocals not quite masking the biting intent of the lyrics.
Other tracks have entirely different characteristics. 'Chaos' and 'The Disillusionist' are reminiscent of old epic Church rockers such as 'Life Speeds Up', while the drum-track-backed 'Feel' is perhaps as close as the band has come to a dance number.
The title track, 'Aura', is a sweet and lazy journey through melodic rifts with Kilbey's almost rap-like vocal backing, and 'Lustre' is the pick of the bunch, a lilting, haunting song that demands attention while retaining an intrinsically pop theme.
STEVE Kilbey has always had the ability to swing from dazzling revelation to cringe-inducing pretension in the blink of an eye and this new Church album contains the usual portions of both. For the main part it's a good album and a major improvement on the disappointing Gold Afternoon Fix. It needs to be listened to a number of times to sink in and, to the band's eternal credit, there is no hint of a hit single or any glance towards the latest trend, factors which marred the last album. The first thing you notice is how good Priest = Aura sounds — it almost luxuriates from the speakers and if the listener concentrates fully there are some wonderful moments, like the sustained intro to Lustre or the bass-line in Chaos. There are some ordinary moments here (Paradox, in particular) but listened to under the right conditions, Priest = Aura has an almost narcotic effect.
Pray The Church's next effort surpasses new album
2-1/2 stars
The Church has reneged on the promise suggested by their last album, Gold Afternoon Fix, with the release of Priest=Aura. Gold Afternoon Fix appeared to be a transitional effort meant to link their earlier, moody sound to a stronger, song-oriented direction. It covered many stylistic bases, with a limited degree of success (the best attempts being "Terra Nova Cain" and "City"), but despite its failings, it seemed to be a positive step forward for the band. Yet, The Church has, on Priest=Aura, smoothed the extremes of G.A.F.'s quality curve into a bland arc, one that uses atmosphere to mask its weak songwriting.
The rules have changed with Priest=Aura. Now, The Church has less pressure to live up to their hit "Under The Milky Way," (from Starfish), the one song which appears to have determined their song-oriented direction on the last album. Priest=Aura could very well be a cynical response to G.A.F.'s lack of commercial success through its own mid-tempo inaccessibility, yet such a response backfires in the wake of frustratingly insipid material.
Priest=Aura runs some painfully similar grooves through a murky aural grinder, keeping the material at a constant level of blandness.
The band itself isn't the same with new drummer Jay Dee Daugherty, although his presence doesn't really affect The Church's low-key sound. This "sound," so integral to The Church's identity, remains the same with the exception of a more pronounced keyboard presence. Guitarists Peter Koppes and Marty Willson-Piper lay down the same shimmering and glassy guitar parts as always, and their six-string efforts peal like chimes throughout the songs. Steven Kilbey still sings in his distinctive low, whispering style, and his beefy bass playing is pulse-like and insistent. In terms of sonic presence, The Church present nothing unusual, and their refusal to stretch the limits of the "sound" is the album's fatal flaw.
The album's assembly-line approach to songwriting creates some simplistic melodies and grooves, although no song is particularly bad. The album fails not in its presentation of individual songs, but in its conception of how to present them. Those songs which are least dependent on mood to make their point (such as "Ripple" and "Kings") are the best, while the worst songs tend to sleepwalk through their chords ("Swan Lake" and "Aura"). Unfortunately, the great majority of the songs don't escape these lethargic confines.
Kilbey's lyrics, while occasionally inspired in past efforts, are remarkably dull on the album. His subject matter is undirected and pointlessly abstract. In "Mistress," he sings: "And another thing/That halo you wear on your head/I haven't seen one of those for years/Where have you been?", and his confused babbling doesn't let up. Even decent lyrics ("Lustre") ring false in comparison to his better earlier work, especially on Starfish, and are the product of a lack of inspiration.
The Church could take a couple of pointers from The Cure, a group that excels at making music that is somnolent yet not devoid of musical character. They should analyze their successes (again, Starfish, which is a fine album with a myriad of textures) and rethink their songwriting process before their next recording. Although one should usually credit a group for trying to avoid self-repetition, The Church has taken the wrong step entirely on Priest=Aura, and have shifted from a good, multi-denominational band to on [sic] overbearing bore.
In explaining the way the band wrote the music for "Priest=Aura" (never a good idea in even the best circumstances), Steve Kilbey of the Church says he went into the studio and "dreamt up the words" after the instrumental tracks had been laid down.
And dreamland is just where this spacey, dreamy album is likely to send all but the most devoted Church fans. And the dreams won't necessarily be pleasant, either. There is a dark, depressing cast to too many of these flaccidly paced songs.
There are a few bright spots. "Kings," the best song on the album, has some U2-ish energy as the band briefly awakens from its ethereal reverie. There are Edge-like guitar and other sonic flourishes that can paint a pretty aural picture, but "Priest=Aura" never offers any songs as compelling as, say, "Shadow Cabinet" or the radio hit "Under the Milky Way."
Where the Psychedelic Furs — who have a similar sound — seemed positively rejuvenated on their most recent album, the Church sounds tired and very nearly out of new musical ideas.
"Priest=Aura" is only for diehard worshippers at the altar of the Church.
Albums Revisited: The Church's 'Priest=Aura' Turns 25: a look back at the group's underrated masterpiece
March 10 marks the 25th anniversary of Priest=Aura, the 8th studio album from Aussie alternative psych-rockers The Church.
25 years later, Priest=Aura has lost none of its power. It still conjures a sound that creates a dream state unlike any other album. It's elusive and intangible in the most wonderful way. And that's what keeps its devotees coming back for more.
Here is the eighth album from the alternative Australian Church boys, and is the first after a series of solo projects. Full of wide-open sounds and colors, this music is, by design, a voyage of sorts, or a mad dream. Kinda like U2 on acid. All songs are written by bandmembers Peter Koppes, Steven Kilbey, Marty Willson-Piper and Jay Dee Daugherty. This follow-up to 1990's Gold Afternoon Fix, is produced by the band and Gavin MacKillop.
The Church get into a swirling groove and stay in it, only coming up for air on songs like "Feel," "Ripple" and "Aura." Priest = Aura is the Church way off the surreal deep end, showing a distinct preference for still water as opposed to the feisty tides. Nearly halfway inside all this tranquility is "Feel," Priest = Aura's quintessential statement. This time around, The Church matches the mood of the lyrics with that of the music. Listening is a little like dreaming with your eyes open. The fourteenth song of this sixty-five minute set is "Film," a floating instrumental.
The Church are truly a cerebral band—they're only as clever or brilliant as you read them to be since they prefer to draw an aural outline—a brief sketch—and let the listener fill in the colored parts. This approach, although somewhat obtuse in theory, manages to hit the mark succinctly on Priest=Aura. My personal favorite is the vibrant, blue-green wash of "Feel," without a doubt the album's masterpiece. (Single number two?) After you pick yourself up off the floor, check out "Mistress" and "Dome."
Australian combo breaks a two-year silence with a lustrous, highly atmospheric album with instant modern rock appeal. There's something for jocks ranging from the timid to the daring here: Single-length tracks like "Paradox" and "Feel" nestle up against relatively sprawling epics like "Aura" and "Chaos." Quality is almost universally fine, and should widen the Church's still-burgeoning American audience.
Loving this album requires a lot of "homework", but it's undoubtedly one of the best Church works. Dark as hell and infinitely complex, this is a landmark in progressive (and psychedelic) rock.
Fittingly enough, the lush music of the Australian band, The Church would sound great booming around in the airy upper reaches of a large cathedral. Unfortunately, the logic behind the band's weightier lyrics doesn't bear close inspection. For instance, the opening cut of Priest=Aura, the Church's eighth record, evokes a post-nuclear landscape in which humankind discovers that "love equals hate and death equals fate/An enemy always equals an adorer/The priest equals aura." Still, the Church can make some of the most beautiful noise in rock. There is a clarity and power to singer-lyricist Steven Kilbey's deep voice that undercuts the poor impression made by his pretentious song subjects: His evocative use of language, combined with the thick swirl of co-guitarists Marty Willson-Piper and Peter Koppes, creates a satisfying sound that could easily suspend any listener's initial disbelief. The Church is a constant reminder of what magnificent aural sculptures a mere four-piece rock band can shape out of nothing more than electricity and atmosphere. A-
From my point of view, it's here the journey begins. This is the bands second highlight (after Starfish). The journey into exploring unknown landscapes, prog and psychedelic maps. The opener on this album has always blown me away. The album should be listened to several times. It grows.. Greetz from Sweden.
Este disco es exelente me compre la version doble los temas exelentes los lados b tbn exelentes el albun completo es bueno las canciones fog chaos son de verdad increibles todo muy bueno suiza¡¡¡
THE CHURCH'S MASTERPIECE.
Simply put, a magnificent recording that elevates The Church into the stratosphere. Layers of shimmering Willson-Piper and Koppes guitars and vocal/bass playing mastery by Steve make this easily The Church's masterpiece album, bar none.
While Starfish may arguably be the band's POP masterpiece, Priest=Aura is a classic ROCK album from start to finish. Not in the sense of soaring guitars and stadium friendly lyrics ala U2 (my other favorite band of all time along with The Church), but this is why I am a rock music fan to begin with. I am challenged by the music rather than sedated by it.
Often dense and brooding, the opener "Aura" finds Steve in a lyrical stream of consciousness that is both absorbing and engaging. "Ripple" is pure sonic brilliance and one of their best singles ever.
Other faves include "Dome," a ballad unequalled in their recording catalogue, except for maybe "Lost" from Starfish, IMHO. Here Steve is the storyteller and the listener is rewarded beyond all expectations with a parable that engages and allures.
"Feel," has pop song written all over it with clear vox and a hook that is to die for though I keep thinking that there should be a third verse in there as the song winds down... which is part of The Church's appeal...they defy conventions and confound the listener making for a truly pleasurable sonic experience that challenges rather than simply satiates. "When I nearly had the connection sussed, it slips right off my tongue" is a Steve Kilbey lyric that resonates with me long after the final notes have faded away.
My standout faves are the beautiful "Kings" which hearkens back to the guitar layered brilliance of "A Month of Sundays," with Peter and Marty's always perfect licks. "Mistress" finds Steve just chewing the mindscape with his lyrics. "Chaos" is the band on all cylinders turning in 9+ minutes of musical mindfucking. Brilliant.
My standout track is "The Disillusionist," which could have been recorded in another century with the barroom swagger of it's chorus, seemingly taken, or borrowed for that matter, from another time altogether to produce a staggering piece of work. Both haunting and chilling with an unmistakable resonance.
Not the most user-friendly album by The Church by any means, but listeners looking for an adventure rather than just hearing the pop hits will be astonished by the mastery of studio, talent, and sheer creativity that this album rewards after repeated listenings. Truly my favorite of all time from The Church.
"Aura" musically balances minor and major chords in a disturbing stage play of a disillusioned soldier having been captured and released from an unnamed enemy of another shore.
Thus the stage is set for the rest of 65 minutes worth of the Church's laid back, painful quests into a troubled world of feelings and emotions. While the words are often blended deeply into the musical backdrop, enough comes through to foster the image of someone caught in a dark whirlpool, grasping for the saving rope that may be there. "Everything is going wrong/All my songs are coming true/And another thing/That halo you wear on your head/I haven't seen one of them in years. Where have you been? You've been dead" from "Mistress" is devastating.
I was converted to the Church with their 1988 release "Starfish", which was supposed to be their break-through to mainstream. At least there was a hit spawned from it. I found their minor keyed wall of sound with the rich, esoteric baritone vocals very appealing. 1990's "Gold Afternoon Fix" toyed with a few more hooks, but didn't get the airplay that "Starfish" received. So, the Church hasn't made the crossover, maybe that's good in that there is not as much pressure to produce product instead of craft. And this release, in my opinion, is close to a melancholy masterpiece. While it may not hit #1, it has far more artistic merit than 99% of what does.
The Church is exactly opposite of a lot of the empty popular music so prevalent these days, offering a thoughtful alternative, That, or I'm getting old, disillusioned and depressed.
Not to everyone's taste, this album rewards patient listening over cold, rainy nights. The Church have always been on the cusp of greatness without quite crossing the threshold (they have set the bar impossibly high for themselves). However in Priest = Aura they have transcended a tendency for pomp to reveal the closest perfect state. From the opening track to 'The Disillusionist' and the carthartic 'Film', Kilbey and co somehow pulled a mass of sly guitar, crooning lyrics and studio effects into a sonic heaven (or hell). No one else comes close to its vision.
P=A was my starting point for The Church and to this date my favourite album. It was 1995 and I had not only personal problems but I also had an identity music crisis. I was depressed and miserable, and in a quest to find THE Music for the soundtrack of my life. One day I was watching MTV and saw the Under the Milky Way video, and it was love at first sight, it was kid of the music I had in mind but that never had listened (I always had something for down tempo). The next day I went to a record store and asked for anything from a band called The Church. I didn't know the name of the album and I didn't remember the name of the song. The guy in the store showed me the stuff they had, and I bought Priest= Aura.
From that moment my musical perspective changed forever. It hit me like an earthquake; it caught me totally unguarded, totally vulnerable. The only thing I could compare what I was listening to, was to The Cure, but it was so much better. Just imagine listening to this stuff after having being listening to stuff like Chris Isaak, Dire Straits and D.A.D. It was dark, melancholic, kind of depressive but so, so cool. The music was so rich and complex, the guitars were unbelievable, the vocals out of this world. Something that stuck me hard too was the lyrics, mysterious, eclectic, cynic and in most cases undecipherable. It took me several weeks to digest the whole album.
Well, now that I own enough Church stuff to compare this album, I can tell you this is an amazing one. It still sets me in a kind of dream-nightmare state. The guitar work here is great; it has a lot of reverb, delay and the use of feedback is used masterfully. In most of the album there are a lot of layers of guitar that some times blend themselves in a way I've rarely heard elsewhere. Some synthesizers you may hear are actually guitars. The drumming in my guitar kind of thinking is very solid and professional. Steve's bass playing is great, especially in Chaos, where it stands out of the mix. If you ask me which song is the best, I can't answer that, because I see this album as a whole, and because of that, in other things, it is the best-made Church album.