ALBUM REVIEW - “A MILLION KNIVES” by The Velveteers
At 7:35 in the morning sometime in late November last year, I wore my chunky headphones at a small kitchen table in an even smaller airbnb in Albuquerque, New Mexico. The blinds were all drawn; my older brother lay snoring in the next room over; I trudged my way through another damn cover-letter. At about the same time, about five seconds into a track called “Suck the Cherry”, my frontal lobe clunked into place.
“Tell Me That You Wanna See Me”
From left to right: Demi Demetri, Baby Pottersmith, and Jonny Fig
By Chloe Barkley (@capturedchlo on Instagram)
With their second studio album, A Million Knives, Boulder’s glam-punk trio The Velveteers gave the lonely among us something else to adore on February 14th, when a throng of sweaty dreamers rocked along to their album release at South Broadway’s Hi-Dive in Denver. Two teasers, released back in November, “Suck the Cherry” and “Go Fly Away”, now occupy two ends of an album that is at once a rendition of emotional devastation, an ode to the inevitability of growing up, and a concession that, against the very best of our efforts, we are so often our own downfall.
As it goes with so many of the greats, the truly inconsolable rise to the top, and with this project, front-woman Demi Moore and Drummers/Multi-Instrumentalists/Fucking Icons Baby Pottersmith and Jonny Figg are dealing with some pretty painful subject matter. A Million Knives asks all the tough questions and answers very few of them. It is a love letter to the very experience of making music. It is also a lamentation for the lost childhood innocence that so often accompanies being in the public eye and ear. Set to a harrowing sonic landscape of attack, buzz, and the odd but tasteful screech, it is caustic yet gentle, serene yet razor-sharp. As one chronically desirous of provenance and precedent, I immediately found myself rediscovering equally tortured projects like 1993’s "Rid of Me”, on which a pugnacious PJ Harvey lays grievance after grievance on top of a sparse and unyielding backdrop of guitar and percussion. Here also is an album about some of the dissociation one feels in the spotlight; if not a direct inspiration for A Million Knives, fans of either would be fans of the other, myself included.
BY CHLOE BARKLEY (@capturedchlo on Instagram)
A Million Knives is a crescendo of white-hot guitar-work and the kind of ear-filling drums that only dual-kits can accomplish; and while there is little to no evidence of bass instrumentation throughout the 43-odd minutes of run-time, I hardly think it needs it, let alone has room for it. This dynamic use of volume and tone, shifting from quiet to ear-splitting, soft to serrated, is most easily noticed in serene title track “A Million Knives’, and most dramatically felt in “Moonchild”, where Demi’s voice is high above us and the drums come from Hell. Baby and Jonny create all the sonic layers Demi and her neck-pickup need to lay bare all the stolen childhood whimsy she can muster.
The whole experience is compounded so organically by the bond between Demi and Baby. It is no secret that the two have experienced rough periods throughout their friendship, but this album is an incredible testament to the power of music to carry us through the stickier sides of life. Their chemistry reflects real complexity and real devotion—you see it not only on stage, but in the way that form seems to punch expression in one song and hug it in the next. Jonny Figg only complements their spark, and could be seen toying with keys and more than a few knobs at their show the other night, sprinkling in synths and electronic elements to fill out the sound. It all comes together as a complete and dynamic 13-track package that wakes you up, lulls you back to sleep, and then sends you running for cover.
BY CHLOE BARKLEY (@capturedchlo on Instagram)
When the metallic clinks of a music box fade out in the last seconds of closing track “Fix Me”, I am left more than a little disheveled. What I am also left with, however, is an overwhelming sense of solidarity. While the going can get tougher than anyone ever told us as kids, we will always have music and those to play it with. Life is not about figuring it out, but about finding what revelry we can in the puzzle—and finding it with friends. Listen only for futility on A Million Knives, and you'll be catching only one side of the conversation.