Today’s word of the day is “catharsis”. For those of you that are unfamiliar with the term, catharsis is defined as the process of releasing, and thereby providing relief from, strong or repressed emotions. Some of the most empowering songs of any genre are not only exciting for the listener, but provide the band or artist that exact liberation of feeling that has almost nothing to do with the audience and everything to do with the uncontrollable desire to unleash pent up emotions. “Letters From The Sky” has a funny way of blossoming its thorny cathartic rose however, as Civil Twilight make it a point to bottle up their emotions as long as possible to coincide with the song’s message.
Subtle thematic undertones are sprinkled all over “Letters From The Sky” to leave room for multiple theories behind it’s meaning, though the most popular theory states that the song is the incessant rambling of a man that can’t get over his deceased loved one. The immense grief is written all over the emotion released through the keys, but the piano’s release is oddly coupled with a quaint attitude and a nearly inexpressive straight face from each band member. The dark instrumental aura constantly reflects the fact that something is seriously wrong, but the lyrics are a testament of denial and scantily supported hope. The fragile emotional wall was built up to topple at the slightest breeze.
There aren’t any visible signs of major doubt until the song’s closing. Guitar and drum patterns begin to seem frantic as the entire song’s pace becomes worrisome and filled with apprehension. Faces remain virtually inexpressive aside from clenched teeth while words come flooding out of lead singer Steven McKellar’s mouth like a devastating hurricane forcibly tearing apart everything that lies in its path. The subconscious dubiety reveals its frightened figure as mental collapse seems imminent amidst the a tsunami of fear and loathing that has been held back for far too long. The true fear reveals itself however, when the winds stop blowing and landscape settles. McKellar cannot stop saying “You’re coming back to me” as if his immeasurable loss has left him in a state of lunacy. The way it trails off would lead one to believe however, that those were the only words echoing in his head for years.