In 1982, British punk rocker Jason Priest slid his black leather jacket over his shoulders and headed to New York City. He landed a brand new record deal and spent a decade of debauchery. Jason mustered up the will to get sober, moved back to London, and set out to write Is Missing, a collection of songs about hope, but found many would turn out to be about death and the dark comedy life can sometimes be.
I was first introduced to Jason Priest on King Kill 33 Degrees released on vinyl by Electric Dream Records which, in my view, should be in the collection of every fan of dark wave or related genres. Is Missing is the third release of the Jason Priest project by Antoni Maiovvi, which was written over the course of 18 months beginning in winter 2018 in an apartment in The Hague, The Netherlands and finished in Bristol, United Kingdom.
After a few beers and a night that finds itself winding down, I reach for Is Missing to take me home. Jason Priest has a striking capacity to harmoniously integrate an uncountable number of musical styles. It can only be described as “…sort of post-goth-punk-wave-synthpop,” the artist told the electroscape. This is spot on. This integration of styles is not so surprising when one learns the artist has a long and varied musical history, including playing in goth, noise, experimental, and even country bands, as well as creating horror themed electro-disco records. When I listen to Is Missing, I detect post punk, early industrial, dark wave, synthwave, psychedelic rock, synthpop, disco, and techno elements, a truly unmatched fusion of styles.
Is Missing is an exquisite display of layered percussion, Cure-like guitar melodies, bass lines, synth lines, and vocals with a noticeable edge and most welcomed occasional post-punk undertone that all fit together to make a richly textured complete whole, which shines on “Robes,” a song the artist said was inspired by ”… the sort of person who makes a big lavish to-do about their feelings or opinions only to have the whole thing appear sort of empty when you actually listen to what they have to say.”
The rich textures displayed on Is Missing emerge from the way the artist builds the songs, relying on a very post-punk sounding Fender Bass VI guitar and built first from the bare bones of a drum pattern and then bass line and/or guitar or synth part. I find this bare bones drum pattern to be a salient feature of the songs on Is Missing that never disappears despite the rich layers added thereafter. The songs have a familiar verse-chorus structure, which are grown out of long introductions that pave the way for the lyrics, which the artist said comes after the basic arrangement. The vocals stand out on Is Missing as well. The vocals exert a calm intensity, feel purposeful, and often sound as if they are delivered from many directions at once only to arrive in the same place in haunting fashion.
Is Missing begins in quite a different place than it ends. It opens with the bright sounding “When the Clown Cries,” though, perhaps ironically, was inspired by the artist’s thoughts “…on people in the public eye who die at their own hand.” In “Gone Upstairs”, a dark drama is delivered with a post-punk vocal piece against a poppy synth with a dark wave edge. The song was written about the house in Weston-Super-Mare where members of the band Coil lived and member Jhohn Balance fell two stories to his death in 2004. The song is told through the eyes of a friend of the band.
By the time the listener arrives at “The Power” the tone has become strong, dark, edgy, a song the artist said “is a satire of masculinity via the medium of Cruising style disco rock.”
The album nears its end with “March 25th” which elicits images of watching yourself walk down an empty street in the cold, drizzling rain under gray skies. The song was written on the evening the song is named after, the night one of the artist’s musical heroes, Scott Walker, died, though the artist did not learn of Walker’s death until morning. The artist told the electroscape the song is “…about trying to stay positive when things aren’t going well.”
The album closes solemnly with “Dead Again”, which the artist said “…is about the absurdity of caring about life given that it is ultimately temporary.” The song is built around big synth, beats, and vocal pieces that sound as if they are delivered from a podium, all enveloping a drumline that sounds to be built from a primitive drum machine. When “Dead Again” ends, I often feel the urge to start the album all over again.
The next Jason Priest record is already in the works and, in the meantime, the artist hopes to pull together some other musicians and play live.