When: Sat., May 14, 9:30 p.m. 2011
Young Widows' third full-length, In and Out of Youth and Lightness (Temporary Residence), burns slow. Its predecessor, 2008's Old Wounds, was tense and often frenetic, heavy with the fuck-yous and jolts of noisy, angsty posthardcore these Louisville dudes had established as their idiom—but that album's counterbalancing undercurrent of gloomy stoicism and icy command comes to the fore on the new record. In and Out of Youth and Lightness is very much a black-suit, black-shirt, black-tie affair, with a serial-killer cool reminiscent of labelmates the Black Heart Procession—you might not be infatuated within the first 90 seconds, but give it time and it'll hypnotize you. Evan Patterson's drawling vocals creep along with a kind of Nick Cave panache as his delay- refracted guitar snakes through nine cavernous songs that average five minutes each (compared to less than three on Old Wounds). Only "Future Heart" and "Miss Tambourine Wrist" sound at all urgent or anxious. I can imagine some fans bailing on account of this album— especially if they got into Young Widows via the knotty racket two of these guys used to make in Breather Resist—but the band's increasingly sinister tone shows them moving forward, into territory that's like something from a Grimm's fairy tale gone horribly wrong. I know I'm cool with it at least.