ALBUM REVIEW – AFI – SILVER BLEEDS THE BLACK SUN
- Rick E
- Oct 4
- 5 min read
WORDS RICK E
SILVER BLEEDS THE BLACK SUN
AFI
Over three decades into their career, AFI have become experts in reinvention, shapeshifters who have never been content to rest on their laurels or pander to expectations. With their twelfth studio album, the enigmatically titled Silver Bleeds the Black Sun..., they have done it again!
I will be honest with you – I've been on this journey with A Fire Inside for the better part of my life. From the frenetic hardcore days through the goth-punk renaissance and into the synth-laden experimental phases, witnessed every metamorphosis, every bold leap into the unknown. Each time, there has been that mixture of excitement and trepidation, that question of whether they'll pull it off or crash spectacularly. But here is the thing about AFI: even when they stumble, they do so with such conviction and artistry that you cannot help but admire the attempt.
Silver Bleeds the Black Sun... finds the band channelling their deepest roots in late seventies and early eighties death rock and post-punk, drawing from the shadowy wells of Sisters of Mercy, Bauhaus, and Siouxsie and the Banshees. It is a return to form, but not in the reductive sense that phrase often implies. This is not a band desperately trying to recapture past glories or appeal to nostalgia-drunk fans. Rather, this is the band stripping away the layers of accumulated sonic experimentation to reveal something rawer, darker, and infinitely more focused than anything they have produced in years.
The album opens with "The Bird of Prey," and within the first thirty seconds, it is abundantly clear that this is going to be a different beast entirely. Prominent acoustic guitar strums – yes, you read that right, acoustic – interweave with lush atmospherics that feel both ancient and utterly contemporary. Davey Havok's voice, that distinctive instrument that has guided us through so many sonic landscapes, sounds renewed here, dripping with gothic romanticism and a theatrical flair that recalls the genre's European pioneers. There is a stately quality to the arrangement, something grand and deliberate that stands in stark contrast to the propulsive energy we've come to associate with AFI's more aggressive moments.
What strikes me immediately about this record is its cohesion. The band has spoken about approaching this as a sustained mood piece, and that intention reverberates through every track If this been 15 years ago, I would be ready for Whitby Goth Weekend shoving this in my CD pouches.
By the time we reach "Holy Visions," the album's aesthetic parameters are firmly established. This is music for the witching hour, for candlelit rooms and introspective wanderings through internal labyrinths. Jade Puget's guitar work throughout the record is a masterclass in restraint and atmosphere. Gone are the pop-punk power chords of yesteryear; in their place, we find shimmering arpeggios, subtle dissonance, and textures that evoke the decaying grandeur of Victorian gothic architecture. It's guitar playing that serves the song rather than dominating it, and in that service, it becomes more powerful.
"Blasphemy & Excess" takes things in a slightly more aggressive direction, but even here, the aggression is calculated, controlled. There is a theatricality to the proceedings that feels less like performance and more like ritual. Havok's lyrics have always leaned toward the poetic and obscure, but on this record, they have achieved a new level of density and allusion. Biblical imagery collides with pagan symbolism, personal confession bleeds into universal meditation. It is the kind of writing that rewards repeated listens, revealing new layers of meaning each time you return to it. though lightness is a relative term when discussing an album this committed to exploring darkness. The track floats along on a bed of shimmering guitars and subtle electronic textures, creating something that feels almost dreamlike. It's a brief respite before the album plunges back into the shadows with "VOIDWARD, I BEND BACK," whose title alone suggests the kind of existential drama AFI are trafficking in here, and what drama it is. "VOIDWARD, I BEND BACK" is the album's centrepiece, a six-minute journey through sonic territories that feel genuinely unsettling.
The song builds and recedes like a tide, never settling into comfortable patterns, always keeping the listener slightly off-balance. There are moments here that genuinely send shivers down the spine – not through cheap jump scares or unnecessary aggression, but through careful crafting of tension and release. It has sophisticated songwriting that trusts the listener to follow along through the twists and turns.
As we move into the album's final act with "A World Unmade," the sense of culmination becomes palpable. Everything that has come before seems to be leading to this moment, this final statement. The track is both a summation and a departure, pulling together the album's various threads while also suggesting new directions the band might explore in the future. There is an epic quality to the arrangement, a sense of genuine grandeur that never tips over into pomposity.
I realize this is something we’ve said about our records for years, but this record is starkly different from what we’ve done in the past,” says frontman Davey Havok. “In our 33 years together, we’ve covered so much, musically, that I found myself daunted at the prospect of doing something different, and questioning what that would be.
The album closes with "Nooneunderground," and what a closer it is. At just over three minutes, it is one of the shorter tracks on the record, but it packs an emotional wallop that belies its brevity. The song feels like a farewell, a closing of the circle, but also a promise of continuation. As the final notes fade out, you are left with a sense of having experienced something complete and fully realized, yet also hungry to immediately return to the beginning and experience it all again.
What makes Silver Bleeds the Black Sun... such a triumph is its commitment to vision. This is clearly a band that went into the studio with a specific aesthetic goal and refused to compromise or second-guess themselves. In an era when so many bands hedge their bets, trying to satisfy multiple audiences at once, AFI have made a record that is unabashedly singular in its vision. It won't be for everyone – and that's precisely the point. This is music for those who appreciate the darker corners of the human experience, who find beauty in shadows and solace in melancholy.
Smoke machines at the ready – AFI have produced a modern post-punk gem
5/5.
SILVER BLEEDS THE BLACK SUN – FULL TRACK LIST
1. The Bird of Prey
2. Behind the Clock
3. Holy Visions
4. Blasphemy & Excess
5. Spear of Truth
6. Ash Speck in a Green Eye
7. VOIDWARD, I BEND BACK
8. Marguerite
9. A World Unmade
10. Nooneunderground
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