Black Moon Lilith in Pisces in the 4th House

<p>Mystical doom, hag blues, confrontationally pure: <em>Black Moon Lilith in Pisces in the 4th House</em> is a solo electric guitar and voice performance that is as much a cathartic purging of loss as it is a droned-out metal colossus that summons the holy spirit. Informed by Korean shamanist ritual and the Korean tradition of P’ansori singing (which demands rehearsal next to waterfalls, in order to ravage the vocal cords), as well as by Keiji Haino, Diamanda Galás, and Jeff Buckley, this performance—termed “intimate metal” by a fan—is a grief ritual for Hedva’s mother.</p> <p>“This record is a document of grief at the death of my mother. The journey the record takes you on begins with encountering death, the rage and violence that this summons; to the wash of grief, all the tears and heaving feelings that it brings; to a small, little crying-out in the dark; to, finally, not acceptance, but surrender to the annihilation of it. These stages of the story map to the songs: “O Death” is the angry encounter, a doom song that is violently bare; the washing tears is the song “Wash”; the small cries are the two ballads in the middle, “Family” and “Taking”; and then “2 Coins” and “Mary” at the end are the annihilation.</p> <p>My voice and the guitar are two voices that are battling each other but also singing in a kind of desperate harmony. They keep trying to find each other in the dark. At times the guitar is ferrying me to the underworld, like the mythological ferryman Charon, and at other times, it is death itself. Both of us are demons, or are we angels. It’s also my mother, maybe. In the end, the body of the guitar is killed. I stand over it, like a preacher, and say the Hail Mary. My mother’s name was Mary. When I perform Black Moon Lilith live, I dress either like a preacher or a gravedigger. In a line, it’s about the labor of death.</p> <p>Words I want for Black Moon: terrifying, annihilation, cosmic darkness, the song of whales, the sound of the void, deep time. It should not be easy to listen to, both in concept and affect. It demands attention because it’s an entire world from beginning to end that eats you. It should scare you but feel good, like it’s cleaning you out. It should be a heavy blanket of darkness that is comforting, like how a blanket can be too heavy but also be what you want.”</p> <h4>–Johanna Hedva</h4>