Day Eleven: Whisper – The Dear Hunter

Today, we’re finally going to talk about my favorite band.

If you know me even a little bit, you’ll know I have more than a slight obsession with The Dear Hunter. I might even be their biggest fan (as far as I know.) The reason they’re my favorite is twofold: the expert way they blend narrative into music, and their experimental style. The frontman, Casey Crescenzo, actually wrote a symphony. So you can just imagine. At some points, you feel like you’re listening to a film soundtrack, at others, a punk rock album (which is kind of is.)

TDH wrote an entire five-album saga (which reportedly is not finished) telling the story of a character called “The Dear Hunter” and his journey from infancy (as the illegitimate child of a prostitute) to his manhood as a soldier in World War One and his entanglement with a young prostitute called Miss Leading. It’s truly a work of art and all five albums are worth your time. (So is TDH’s album on the color spectrum. Yeah. It’s worth it.)

I love it when bands experiment but still remain accessible. Sometimes bands who experiment become either too high-brow or obscure. But TDH has fairly seamlessly code-switched from concept albums to EPs to a full-blown catalogue of music. Casey’s strong vocals paired with an eclectic band of instruments make for a wild, cacaphonous ride of just plain musical fun.

Day Eleven: Whisper – The Dear Hunter

Whisper was the first song I heard by TDH, but has ended up not being my favorite. Don’t get me wrong, I love this song too, but my favorite song is Waves. But I’m forever indebted to Whisper for introducing me to this amazing sound. (Also, if I were to use Waves, I’d have to explain all five acts of TDH’s story, and that’s a blog series in and of itself. Just listen to it on your own time.)

Whisper is pretty explicit in what it’s about. It’s about words. However, even “explicit” for TDH is still pretty cryptic. It starts right off the bat with an infectious pairing of drums and rapid strings.

There’s shadows on the walls
Of moments far too troubling too recall
All the settings and the scenes that signal suffering
Impassioned pleas
That ended in a whisper

Whisper is essentially about how difficult it is to say words the right way – and how quickly they can get away from us. Words can be weapons, either for good or bad.

And I think that we’ve all made our greatest mistakes
With the greatest intentions that we’re too stubborn to let go

While the singer voices regret that comes with saying the wrong things, the upbeat chorus reminds us that we still have a chance to use words to empower and defend – “open up your mouth and scream it out, to cast your voice into the crowd.”

I’ve seen what words can do this past year – I really feel Crescenzo’s chorus. We make our greatest mistakes with the greatest intentions. Earlier this year, I unloaded on someone who deeply hurt a friend of mine. I thought I was going to bat for her, but I was really just tearing that person down because I was really, really angry. I was being selfish. And now I’ll never have that friend again.

Interpersonal relationships can be begun or ended by a shout, a whisper, or anything in between. Crescenzo warns against forming habits around toxic words:

Now that you’re alone
Is it really so impossible to know?
All the actions and reactions pinned against each other never really end just how you wanted

Words can isolate you if you use them wrong. Ironically enough, this summer my pastor has been talking about the book of James and what he has to say about our words. The Dear Hunter is by no means a Christian band, but what they have to say rings true.

And all the lessons learned
Were they worth the ash from all the bridges burned?
Standing, stomping in the damage and the ruins of
A slip of tongue with tragic consequences

I’ve burned bridges with people because of what I’ve said. Some intentionally, some unintentionally. Just recently, I hurt someone without realizing it – using my words. I apologized, but I deeply hurt him, and may never mend that friendship again. That happens. And you learn a lesson. And it hurts. But hopefully it won’t have to hurt the next time. “A slip of tongue with tragic consequences” is an understatement.

In the middle of the song, we hear a strange bridge-like anthem.

Don’t let the world beat you down.

In a song about words, it’s interesting to hear this overlayed with the bridge. Easter egg time: It’s actually something of a call back to the previous song, which opens their album Migrant. Fittingly, it’s called Bring You Down. That song speaks into a specific relationship. Crescenzo is imploring an unseen person that he’s failed them, but even though he’s clingy and toxic, “don’t let me bring you down.” Listen to these two back-to-back and you’ll feel the connection.

In the midst of all of this, Crescenzo says, it’s not worth it to beat yourself up over past mistakes – or let the world do it to you either. They can hold it over your head – don’t let them.

Saying the wrong thing hurts when you realize the damage you’ve done. It’s a unique kind of pain to know you’ve done something wrong. You know you did, and you kind of know why you did, but now, you really wish you didn’t. Saying something cutting can feel really good in the moment. But then you get that dull ache in your chest and know you can’t take that back.

Does that make you an awful person? No. It makes you human. Crescenzo says it himself – don’t let that stop your voice from being heard.

And with this little time before I go
I’ll open up my mouth and scream it out
To cast my voice into the crowd 

Don’t let your mistakes silence you. Learn from them and grow beyond them. Crescenzo is using his words to tell us that words are powerful – in a good way. Continue to cast your voice.

And don’t let it bring you down.

a. w.