Is there a beauty in darkness? Maybe Iako’s Queen of balance can convince you.
BEAUTY is in the eye of the beholder, so the saying goes. But what about the ear? Can we actually hear something beautiful?
There are definitely contenders for this award. The sound of a waterfall, or a majestic eagle’s call are sounds that can be considered pleasant, indubitably. But is there really a sound of beauty? Come to think of it, a lot of what we as humans find beautiful is light and positive. A warming sunset or perfect painting is pleasing in its calm and radiating positive impression. And I myself favour that of the charming and cheerful art. But what of the dark. Is there a beauty in the sound of darkness?
This was a paradox for some time. But when I heard Iako’s music, I answered my own question – there was no disputing, it was beautiful.
At first, I was a little apprehensive. The beginning sound of an overplayed circle of fifth chord progression lured me into boredom. A Sam Smith style falsetto vocal planted a grimace on my face. A frown of disinterest crept on my brow, and by that time I had written the song off as nothing more than a sickeningly sappy ballard of ‘heartbreak’.
But, like a twisted circus, the tune takes a turn into the sinister. Unbalanced progressions disrupt the clean equality of the introduction, as the chords become tinged with something dark and churning. The dark beauty conjures up the image of a sad clown looping his mime day in day out in a busy street. I was instantly compelled. Originally he had hope, but now he’s bathing in rejection and ignorance from the passing crowds. It’s a woeful tale, and Iako doesn’t hesitate to delve right into the sour story with his taunting piano.
And just when you think you’ve grasped an understanding of the song, it transforms into an almost euphoric chorus of piano and ethereal vocals. Hope returns to the clown as a cheerful tone takes over. The lack of texture, and beautiful silence build a sort of palace for him. Subtle reverb opens up an empty hall for the vocals to waltz in. Elegant piano arpeggios line the hall with a red lace carpet. It’s delicate but fiery. And throughout, Iako’s voice is effortlessly airy and wistful; he creates the illusion of a ghost that’s plaguing the palace in his haunting whispers. But this life of luxury is short-lived. Piano crumbles, and the track once again descends into a gorgeous darkness.
Fast forward oh so slightly, and there’s this moment of perfection. It’s only a second or two, but it’s the monumental second of transcendence. That singular initial drum beat gets me every time. It has me lost for words. I am relieved to find a song I could immediately fall in love with. My only criticism is that it’s too short; I had to loop it at least three times to finally be released of its earworm catchiness and compelling grip.
So now I’m in awe, blissfully anticipating what Iako will do next. Whatever it is, i hope it’s at least half as good as this masterpiece.