“Rock is dead” in the euphoric, grungy dissonance Kevin the Persian recants an ode to the teenage years of angsty pockmarked life with “suicide in K minor” where people we were most fond of pass on in a relinquishment of a difficult era and seem to creep into every shallow light to resurface as sallow bodies moving through a world of youthful tarnish.
We may be reminded of Soundgarden or any grungy/ hard rock culmination with the frills of dire sentiments and catastrophe pondering death and destruction at the subatomic level. There’s an urgency and sense of calamity, a despondency the runs the course of the album; it plucks away at the fat of the land.
Kevin the Persian’s range in “Southern Dissonance” is vast and we are apprehended by a jolt of tempestuousness, this traffic colliding with spacey debris. The quiet, shockingly cacophonous and loud, then quiescent sound is a repetitive movement with an aging distress filled with transient vernacular, a fussy brooding and an attachment to namesake and homeland singeing prior disavowals.
The space rock is a paradiso of numbing days, a riddled compendium of power chords where Kevin the Persian digs even deeper with the latitude of his songwriting. A premier guitarist with adroit skill ranking Kevin the Persian with a high tier of players.
The darkness and clarity with which Kevin the Persian writes in “Southern Dissonance” is a veil of turbulence and shadow work. There’s a sound-smith deftly eloping with the vertigo of harmonics. We are left wandering the back rooms of spiraling buildings pondering the flickering lights set so gloomily above our heads as we look upon the jowls of people beyond the streets and remember with a nostalgic quirk the era of grunge and it’s happenings
Written by Hari Palacio
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