"Sleep Has His House" is an intense, profound album, born from David Tibet's grief over his father's death, to whom the work is dedicated. It's an introspective journey, which takes on the tones of a heartfelt Eternal Rest: it's the loving farewell the artist pays to a loved one and the irreplaceable void left behind by their departure. There are many similarities with an album like "Soft Black Stars": equally introspective, minimal in form, hermetic in content, they fully represent the new artistic phase of Current 93. But it's no longer the chamber-like settings and Maya Elliott's piano that dominate: "Sleep Has His House", marked 2000, brings Tibet's creature back to glorious folk attire, naturally revisited in light of new experiences gained, with the awareness that after an important album like "Soft Black Stars" it would have been impossible to go back and pretend nothing had happened.
"Sleep Has His House" carries within it two paradoxes, one stylistic and the other conceptual. From a musical point of view, despite having an elegant and refined folk form, the album is perhaps the most intrinsically esoteric in the formation's vast career, and here, in my opinion, it reaches peaks of sacredness and metaphysical transport that had not been achieved even in albums with a strong ritual component like "Nature Unveiled", "Imperium", and "Christ and the Pale Queens Mighty in Sorrow".
From a conceptual point of view, unlike "Soft Black Stars", which explores the emotional abysses of Tibet's tormented soul in detail, "Sleep Has His House", though starting from the same premises, assumes a sense of vastness, of infinity, of universality that is difficult to reconcile with the private dimension of the artist's sorrow. "Sleep Has His House", even more enigmatic than its predecessor, returns to being, forgive the term, downright apocalyptic. Apocalyptic like the mature albums of Nico, a voice from another world, a vivid testimony of Human Tragedy. And like her, Tibet, with this work that seeks the Universal in the Individual ("The Great in the Small"), rises as a poet of the immeasurable and the inconceivable: the bewilderment of man in the face of the End.
The first six tracks essentially move on the same coordinates: the sparse chords of a harmonium, played by Tibet himself, and his poignant poetry underpin the work. It's an album of Tibet for Tibet, where the most faithful companions, the fundamental Michael Cashmore and Steve Stapleton, stay in the background, leaving the stage to their friend and confining themselves to refining and polishing the sounds. Certainly noteworthy is the beautiful "Good Morning, Great Moloch", a track that well represents the tragic and at the same time epic mood of the album, which will become a true classic of Current's new artistic phase: Tibet's voice is at the peak of its minimalism, the words are barely hinted at, but the intensity is palpable, and it's impossible not to be thrilled in the epic final crescendo, where the harmonium continues to weave imposing loops, urged on by the solemnity of the guitars and bass, which in this recording plays a role of absolute prominence.
Also beautiful are "The Magical Bird in the Magical Woods", which at a certain point decides to dematerialize into restless and chilling ambient scores, or "Red Hawthorne Tree", the most catchy track of the lot, which, amidst trumpet blasts and suggestive piano incursions, revives us from the dark transition atmospheres that precede it. Worth noting, finally, is the emotional climax of "Niemandswasser", a manifesto of Tibet's inner struggle, whose voice, carried by an inspired guitar arpeggio, bravely fights against the whistling wind and the blinding dust, further fueling the tragic and spiritually heroic tones that characterize the work.
The last three pieces, on the other hand, are a story unto themselves, forming a concept within a concept, a colossal thirty-minute suite in which the listener is drawn into a truly mystical experience. "Lullabay", not even two minutes of solo harmonium, is just the introduction to the emotional peak of the album, the endless title track: 24 exhausting minutes of drones in which Tibet's faint voice is engulfed by the undulating movement of the harmonium, which rises and falls, generating a true state of ascension, of mystical transport, of hypnotic suspension. For the first 20 minutes, Tibet repeats "Have pity for the dead, sleep has his house", a subdued plea for pity and mercy, an admission of powerlessness, a prayer that finds release only in the last long-awaited minutes, where Tibet finally launches into a liberating declamation of verses with enigmatic and elusive content: undoubtedly one of the most cultured and original attempts to transcend the real through the simple medium of music. "The God of Sleep Has His House", as if that weren't enough, ups the ante: starting with the same oscillating harmonium pattern that, slowly sucked into the void, now relentlessly resurfaces, it's in fact a reprise of the title track, and it closes the album with a sense of quiet resignation in the face of the unknown and the inevitable.
As one might have guessed, "Sleep Has His House" is a powerful, intense experience, perhaps unique in the history of music. It is impossible, for those who wish, not to be enchanted, bewitched, if not hypnotized, by the magnificence of this music and the alienating power of the landscapes it paints. At the same time, it's impossible not to feel the impact. It seems pointless to add, indeed, that listening is not among the simplest and most smooth: "Sleep Has His House", even for the most understanding, courageous, and prepared fans to face Tibet's creation, is a very, very, very arduous experience. The accused on the stand are a vocal interpretation, albeit deeply heartfelt, truly minimal, and the excessive similarity between the different pieces.
"Sleep Has His House" is a verbose, uncompromising, inevitably arduous album, since the intent is not to entertain, but to vent emotions that urgently need to be expressed at a moment of extreme vulnerability, naturally without worrying about the final outcome. The emotions arise more from the musical content, from the flights taken by the imagination, which leverages those contents, preparing to make the Great Leap Beyond. Anyone with imagination, as well as a good dose of patience and a willingness to embark on such a journey, will not be disappointed: "Sleep Has His House" is an elegant, ambitious, sincere work, a door that allows one to temporarily leave the world of the living and taste for a moment the flavor of Eternity. Come forward, if you dare!