The Angels Of Light - The Angels Of Light Sing "Other People" (LP)

Michael Gira’s fourth Angels of Light album, The Angels of Light Sing "Other People", arrived in 2005 on Young God Records, and it still feels like a quiet act of defiance. Where Swans once flattened rooms with volume, this record leans into restraint. It is built on acoustic guitar, close harmonies, a little pump organ, stray bells and hand percussion, yet it hits with a force that heavy bands chase for years. The secret, then and now, is presence. Gira’s voice sits upfront and unflinching, and the songs turn their gaze outward to a cast of messy, fragile, sometimes frightening humans.

Akron/Family serve as the core band here, and you can hear how much oxygen they give the room. They had just come into Gira’s orbit, and their restless musicality sparked against his hard lines. The result is a set that feels both chiseled and alive. Listen to the way the vocals bloom around a single chord, or how a banjo figure sidles in rather than announcing itself. Nothing is showy. Everything is deliberate. Gira produced the album himself, and the Young God aesthetic is all over it, with raw edges left intact so the performances breathe.

“Michael’s White Hands” remains the record’s unnerving centrepiece, a study in tension that never resorts to volume. The guitar picks in tight circles while Gira’s baritone tightens its grip, and the band offer harmonies that glow like a fire seen from far off. “Lennon” is another standout, less an homage than a crooked portrait of idol worship and the traps that come with it. Then there’s “The Kid Is Already Breaking”, which walks a thin line between compassion and dread. These are not confessional songs so much as sketches of other lives, which makes the title ring true. Gira has often written about power and devotion, and here he catches those themes in small details, like a habit you can’t shake or a promise that keeps shifting shape.

The record’s pacing is quietly masterful. Tracks arrive in measured pulses, not to pad things out but to give each scene room to unfold. You can feel the wood of the acoustic guitar, the scrape of a stick on a cymbal, the slight grit in a harmony line. It is intimate, though not cosy. There is always a hint of menace in the margins, as if the room might suddenly tilt. That current gives the album its replay value. You hear new ghost notes each time, a whispered aside from Akron/Family, a small modulation in Gira’s phrasing that changes the temperature of a verse.

Critics at the time heard the shift. Reviews from outlets like Pitchfork and AllMusic picked up on how the Angels of Light had moved beyond the heaviest Swans baggage without losing intensity. Fans who came in through Swans’ later reformation have circled back and found this album to be a vital bridge, a map of how to make acoustic music feel colossal without leaning on cliché. It is also one of Gira’s most approachable sets, which is not to say it goes easy, just that its hooks are cut clean and deep.

On vinyl, the album takes on a physical warmth that suits it. If you see The Angels of Light Sing "Other People" vinyl in a Melbourne record store, grab it, because the room tone and harmonies settle beautifully into the format. It sits well next to other The Angels of Light albums on vinyl, especially the later We Are Him, and it makes a strong case for tracking down The Angels of Light vinyl in general. If you prefer to buy The Angels of Light records online, there are often solid pressings floating around, and the Young God catalogue has a reputation for sturdy packaging. For folks crate digging across vinyl records Australia, this one rewards a late night spin when the house is quiet and you can let the songs creep in at their own pace.

What gives the album its staying power is how it trusts silence. Gira and Akron/Family leave gaps for the listener to fill, which makes the portraits feel more human. The people in these songs are not villains or saints. They are complicated, like the melodies themselves. Fifteen years on, and more, that approach still feels rare. The Angels of Light Sing "Other People" does not chase relevance or retro charm. It simply stands there, steady and unsentimental, and asks you to listen. That is why it endures, and why it is worth owning in a format that invites you to sit still with it for a while.