Mamaleek's "Vida Blue" and the Unbearable, Seemingly Bottomless, Leech-On-Your-Soul that is Loss and Grief
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Today, I would like to introduce you to a band by the name of Mamaleek. In the words of Spotify:
"Mamaleek is an experimental metal group from San Francisco, founded in 2008 by two anonymous brothers. The name supposedly derives from Arabic, and is the plural of Mamluk, or 'slave'..... As of 2015 the band has released five albums, and are signed with the San Francisco-based alternative label The Flenser."
I came across Mamaleek at a time where I would consider myself at the edge of near-total ruin; running on the fumes of a former self with a keen eye for things to worsen my condition with. Fortunately for me, I was too principled/broke for heroin and had the immense privilege of a loving family to take refuge with after a years-long succession of personal failings.
That aside, Mamaleek's latest album "Vida Blue" is a deep, gut-wrenching, dive into the mourning of the loss of a former band member. Processing loss is no easy task, and one loss tends to trigger the memory of all the loss and unprocessed grief that came before it. It's a feeling that is known to kill, and if not that, leave a lasting void in you. Loss does not always come in death, but it does have a tendency to favor it.
Plenty of people, and I will include myself, although probably haphazardly, do not tend to face loss and/or grief in their life until it rears its head in an unavoidable circumstance where it all washes over you at once.
Oh yeah, anyway, the album.
"Vida Blue" is not an album that I can really break down within rational terminology. I'm sure someone can, but not myself.
It is driven entirely by grief.
It writhes in pain at what once was.
It analyzes its material conditions with deep sorrow.
It screams in agony at what it must accept in order to move on and alter its course in order to escape the darkness in which it resides.
It seeks external conflict to displace its own inner turmoil.
It tries old, unhealthy coping mechanisms that were once able to suppress this feeling, but they don't work like they used to.
In an attempt of denial, it runs back to the source of its grief just to remember that the thing it's looking for is no longer there, or is contorted into something that no longer suits it. Thus resetting its progress.
This album does not come from a place of organized thought, though it makes feral attempts to. It is viscerally bent out of shape and incapable of communicating itself succinctly due to the overwhelming weight of what it is processing. It's spiritually exhausted and its legs are buckling under pressure as it makes unprepared attempts to face what it seeks to confront, and lashes out at its own futility.
Just as soon as it seems to have organized itself, the legs give out and another breakdown occurs.
But that's the whole point.
To me, "Vida Blue" is not so much an album as it is a living being that has reached its breaking point and is trying to understand how to properly cope with a reality that feels completely out of its control.
It's an album that understands its need for change and seeks to change its attitude towards itself and the world that it feels entrapped by, but struggles to escape the spirals of that which it grieves until it fully gives in and wails at its own condition in unwanted solitude; coming within a hair of a full on implosion prevented by a last minute realization of the danger it's putting itself in. A process as necessary as it is immensely and, seemingly, insurmountably painful.
The friend that "Vida Blue" so desperately needs is the one that it lost, or possibly never even had, and so it must learn to be its own friend in order to keep its own self destruction at bay by addressing its own fragility after a lifetime of avoiding it.
Unfortunately, the time to do so did not come at all conveniently, but does it ever?
There is beauty in the process, however, and by the end of its runtime, "Vida Blue" does in fact find that beauty. It realizes it isn't entirely hopeless and begins to cherish what it had before it made its departure, and empowers itself to handle the future in a way that doesn't hang on to what was, while still paying respects to where it brought them. It becomes thankful and appreciative despite wincing at the acceptance it has to come to.
Long live the memories, good and bad, and may they become fuel for the future that we seek to create for ourselves.
Regards,
CEO
Favorite tracks:
Vileness Slim
Ancient Souls, No Longer Sorrowful
Hatful of Rain
Legion of Bottom Deck Dealers
Hidden Exit on a Greyhound