José González Gently Rages ‘Against the Dying of the Light’ » PopMatters

When singer-songwriter and acoustic guitarist extraordinaire José González warns us about the dying of the light, he does not mean in the Dylan Thomas sense about individual death. González sings about the possible mass destruction of human life caused by the improper functions of Artificial Intelligence and other contemporary technologies. He preaches to his audience one-on-one, like a folksinger, which he technically is, but González’s music shares more in common with chamber pop than with other Dylans because of his polished stylings.

Then again, González is no purist, although his surface classicism may fool one. Against the Dying of the Light‘s title song begins with a lilting guitar riff that morphs into a gentle mantra. “Accept who you have become / Where you’re from / All things set, all things gone,” he sings in a soft voice. The point seems to be one of inertia. Stay where you are. Don’t do anything.

To begin with, a line about acceptance seems odd for a song about being “against”, but the Swedish musician is just setting the listener up. His own heritage is Argentinian. His parents had to move from the Land of Silver to the Land of the Midnight Sun because of political unrest in their home country. González knows one does not have to stay put and do nothing when bad things are happening. He wants the listener to relax so the person can embrace their essential self and create a better future.

“Disconnect from every algorithm,” he sings, “Let’s rebel against the replicators!” He’s not a Luddite but rather someone who wants us all to appreciate our humanity. “Celebrate the fucking fact that we’re alive,” he suavely commands in the last words of the song. That could be the theme of the album. Despite the warnings about AI and such in this and some other songs (especially “A Perfect Storm” and “Losing Game”), the underlying current is more basic and more radical. Be glad you are alive!

Sometimes the song itself is simply an expression of joy (which is also the title of the album’s final track), such as the Spanish language “Pajarito”, inspired by Paul Simon‘s” 59th Street Bridge Song” and Silvio Rodríguez’s “Rio”. One doesn’t need to know a foreign language to appreciate González’s childlike perspective. Four of the 13 songs here are in Spanish or Swedish, and he sings in a placid voice that can make his English difficult to understand. He also engages in wordplay and slang, such as on “Sheet” that uses the title as a euphemism for feces.

González’s guitar playing, rather than just his verbal skills, makes him such a remarkable musician. He frequently uses serial repetition to engage his listeners. Cuts such as “For Every Dusk” and “U / Rawls Slöja” begin with a slow, steady string beat that loops before the filigrees start, and the guitarist unveils the melody. The instrumental verses build on one another with little variation before blossoming into complete songs.

The combined effect of José González’s beatific vocals and the alluring way he plays guitar suggests he intuitively knows what he sings about. Every one of us is an individual, not in the cliched sense, but in the more pedestrian one. We live in a world that deprives us of our uniqueness. We willingly accept this for many reasons. The music here reminds us that we are more than just monetized chits classified into data for our pleasure and convenience. If we are not careful, we could lose what makes us special, if not more. We should be outraged.