Devin Townsend – Ki

If there is one word that’s overused in the entertainment industry, it’s “genius.” You can be great at what you do (maybe even the best), but that doesn’t qualify. No, a true genius is someone who creates in their own universe; they derive ideas and techniques never heard or seen before. They invent an entirely new way to hear music, are often eccentric, and those lucky enough to understand what they’re doing are changed forever. This short list (of the last fifty years) includes Paul McCartney, John Lennon, Brian Wilson, Frank Zappa, and, with over a decade of magnificent art under his belt, Devin Townsend. Townsend recently released his tenth solo effort, Ki, and it’s filled with wonderful sounds. It also feels like a retrospective of his previous work, featuring similar styles.

The story behind the creation of Ki is touching. Essentially, Townsend spent his adult life angry and intoxicated. His metal project Strapping Young Lad was a vehicle for him to get out aggression, and his entire discography was written under the influence of drugs and alcohol (but, to be fair, these substances contributed to stunning music). Now a husband and father, Townsend wanted to start acting like an adult and see if he could write sober. The result is this first part of the “Devin Townsend Project,” a four part masterwork where each release has different musicians and a different agenda. Ki is the preface; the subtle, quiet rebirth of a man who’s trying to repent for past demons. Taking this into account, the album is just as meaningful for the music as it is for where it came from.

“A Monday” is simply a repeated guitar arpeggio, echo, and a random piano chord. As a brief introduction, it conveys the sense of purity and second chances that Townsend wants Ki to represent. It segues into “Coast” with the alien dissonance Townsend is known for. The track has the poppy, futuristic sound of Accelerated Evolution, and Townsend’s falsetto is beautiful as he sings “run away, just run away from here.” Lyrically, it discusses unknown people escaping to the “coast” (a metaphor for a new beginning perhaps).

“Disruptr” (yes, that’s how it’s spelled) immediately shows the other side of Townsend; the heavy, growling devil. It’s a straightforward rocker similar to the “Planet Smasher” portion of Ziltoid the Omniscient, and contains his trademark vocal chameleon technique (he’s one of the most versatile singers I’ve ever heard). One could hear the track symbolism for him trying to fight off his vices, finally screaming at himself “…be a man about it. You don’t forget the family….be a goddamn man, boy.” Townsend may be a cleaned up soul, but he hasn’t lost his insanity. “Gato,” featuring a female vocalist, begins poppy and gets heavier as it goes. It’s catchy and showcases Townsend’s unprecedented production in manipulating a fairly commercial song into something fierce and unexpected. The instrumental section is very enjoyable, and it’s interesting how he evolves so much onto a simple guitar riff and bass line. There is great usage of dynamics too as Townsend’s schizophrenic style (going from angelic to demonic) shines. However, these two songs are also the least accessible to those unprepared for Townsend because his harshest moments aren’t necessarily enjoyable to listen to, but if you’re a follower and understand his music, it’ll make sense.

In stark contrast to the previous two songs is “Terminal,” one of his most subtle and beautiful ambient pieces. Here we have Townsend resorting back to the earthly, uncompromising emotional frailty of Terria (a wonderful, moving album). Anyone who has heard Terria will know what I’m talking about. It’s very sparse musically, allowing Townsend’s voice to reign over our ears like a waterfall of uncertainty and regret. Lyrically, Townsend excels at expressing so much with so little, pleading to “…tell me there’s a lot of ways I need to know. Another day, terminally out of phase and ill disposed.” It’s a track that makes you freeze in place and listen in awe.

“Heaven Send” is a collage of weird sounds and rhythms. You’re never quite sure where it’s going, which is what makes Townsend so special. The female singer returns to sing the chorus as Townsend accompanies out of phase (breaking the rules and ignoring musical conventions, a sign of genius). By the end, it’s a musical apocalypse; Townsend’s growls overpower us, and the music is just as scary. The track fades into the jam “Aint Never Gonna Win…,” a jazzy, cool segue into Townsend’s second affective gem, “Winter.” I’m always amazed at artists who create massive depth with simplicity, and this track is a prime example. It’s basically a more sparse jam with Townsend saying “how in the world can the winter fall apart?” over and over again. What makes it so captivating is the way Townsend’s vocals are stacked upon each other to create his infamous “wall of sound.” His voice can scare the hell out of you at times, but at others, it’s like hearing God. It fades out softly, leaving an imprint in our memory.

Yet another side of Townsend beloved by fans is his sense of humor, and “Trainfire” displays it. Imagine Elvis Presley singing about an addiction to internet porn over rockabilly. The train fire is a metaphor for this subject. Save for the humor element, the song is kind of bland, but the ending is a wonderful surprise. Suddenly, as things fade out, the female vocalist appears with a bittersweet melody that pulls you into a world of heartache. Then it’s over. Only Townsend would make a song that’s tongue-in-cheek for most of its duration but add in an extremely poignant ending.

The next three tracks are somewhat interconnected as a repentance suite. “Lady Helen” is a love song of sorts. Townsend, with a lovely melody, promises his lover that he’s a new man, that he loves her, and that he’ll be there for the baby. Townsend uses simple but meaningful lyrics to avoid sentimentality, instead capturing raw emotion. Again, he overdubs vocals for the chorus of “eyes forward,” and it’s touching. The track brilliantly segues into the title track, which is an opus of sound and wonder.

This is one of those Devin Townsend tracks, like “Earth Day” and mostly all of Synchestra (one of the greatest albums ever made), that cements him as a genius in one shot. It begins with Townsend harmonizing with himself several times, creating a collage of vocals that are at once incomprehensible and stunning. As for the main vocal, it weaves around melody unconventionally as the arpeggio follows. His voice sings about enduring, and we know that he is optimizing the pain of all his past offenses, and he desperately wants to be forgiven. After this, things quiet down in an organized randomness before it all ceases to allow for a centralized guitar arpeggio, which continuously repeats over countless measures. After ever couple measures, more is added to the production, and the track builds and builds into something wondrous, tragic, complex and wholly unique. Ninety percent of people will simply hear noise with this closing section. It’s too much to take in at once, but that’s why fans like me adore Townsend at his most creative. His discography is full of moments like this, moments where he transforms what we thought music could be. It doesn’t fit into a genre; it doesn’t follow any set rules. It’s the auditory playground of a man who hears and writes music on another level; a genius.

After such an intense experience, Townsend calms us down with “Quiet Riot,” a coda about personal reflection. Essentially just Townsend, an acoustic guitar and electric piano, he sings about being “…saved in the end. By a long lost friend…” If Ki is his confession and atonement, this track is him finally coming to terms with his life and preparing to move forward. It’s simple and delicate.

Feeling like a bonus track (though it’s never been cited as one) is the afterward, “Demon League.” It’s a slow song about the possibility of his old demons coming back and him being alone to face them. It’s nothing special, and if it were really important to Ki thematically, he should’ve done more with it. The album should’ve ended with “Quiet Riot,” but this track doesn’t hurt really hurt the album; it just doesn’t add anything to it.

As much as I’ve praised Ki for showing that Townsend is still the uncompromising artist he always was, I also have to cite its faults. Even with so many great moments, it’s probably his weakest effort. It’s too commercial at times, and there is little of the virtuosity he is known for. However, this is understandable if it’s just an introduction into his four album project, and as the first release of a man who changes his entire way of writing (drug free), it’s logically a safer, less experimental and complex work. Hopefully with the remaining three albums, he’ll put in more of his edge.

Ki is a very good album, filled with lush sounds and heartfelt ideas. Devin Townsend still manages to represent the deepest emotions with grace and power, and part of this LP will touch you like nothing else could. But there is also some filler material, which is a first for him, and even though it’s great that he’s cleaned up and matured, one can’t help but feel that if he was still as crazy as he used to be, Ki would be a lot more interesting where it needs to be. It’s the debut album of a new artist, so let’s hope that he grows again like he did the first time, and eventually releases true works of genius like Terria, Synchestra and Ziltoid the Omniscient.