The Blue Herons
Demon
Slayer
(Shelflife)
I’ve received constructive criticism a few times over the years about my style of album write ups. When I write them, I almost always tie them into my personal life. I understand this critique and feel it deeply. My efforts to change have not gone very well however, because I find it incredibly difficult to separate my love of music from my own experiences and emotions. Nearly every memory I have is tied to what music was in my life during those times. Besides, I find that my writing skills are not creative enough to write an interesting clinical straight forward review. So, I simply do what I do and hope that I can convince a person to support my limited recommendations, and that I do not bore them with my asides and needless anecdotes.
Demon Slayer, the second long player by the intercontinental duo The Blue Herons is the perfect example of why I struggle to extract music from my own life, and why I become excited to share their incredible music with anyone and everyone I happen to encounter. This album has come at a perfect time for me – like an ambulance rushing to a devastating car crash. Over the past couple of years I have been focused intently on improving my health after the prior 25 years of very severe medical issues. This focus has had several speed bumps along the way, as I’ve tried to take advantage of every therapy I can access, but I feel like I’m seeing the positive results from my hard work, only to feel like it’s being taken away by bureaucracy and nasty politics. I feel like I am describing the title track from this album, “Demon Slayer” (“you gotta get up and go / you gotta slay those demons / before they deprive you of hope”).
For maybe the first time in my life, I’ve been trying to accept and learn how to open myself up to the world and allow others to see what’s really going on with me. I’m done with trying to be stoic and unshakable. I’m tired of refusing offers of help. It’s a lonely existence and I’m feeling that. Man, am I FEELING that, and this album helps assuage those black holes. This amazing collection of songs are really about the ephemeral fiber that makes us all who we are as individuals and the power of honestly recognizing our own needs and wants – the very thing I’ve been neglecting for most of my life. It’s that stuff between the purely biological physical being and the conscious mind that, for so many of us, sabotages so much of what we actually stand for. How many times have you said something that you’ve regretted? It’s as though there’s a layer to all of us that we all know and can recognize, but it’s an intangible. Am I talking out my ass? I think this is where so much of our likes and dislikes come from. Why are some people so especially attractive to us beyond their physical attributes? This is a realm where love and music lie. This is where The Blue Herons thrive.
Gretchen DeVault’s words here are intensely personal. Her vocals are wonderfully effervescent and musical and she has an incredible knack for turning a phrase into a magical earworm, but damn there’s a profoundness and intensity here that belies the breezy beauty of these addictive songs. Andy Jossi’s musicianship is unbelievably intricate and impressive, as his knack for drama fits these songs perfectly by providing the proper depth they deserve.
The emotional high comes early for me as the double feature of “Silent” and “Fight or Flight” appear as tracks three and four landing in the first third of the LP. These two songs find the Blue Herons stretching out their abilities and style into a more melancholy sound. Though it does not sound like The Sundays, “Silent” reminds me of one of their finest achievements: “Goodbye.” It’s in the way they are both built on acoustic guitar strums, stratospheric arpeggios and a burbling bassline. I really identify with the chorus of “Silent” as DeVault majestically pleads to “please let me off this ride / ‘cause I’ve lost myself / in these lows and highs.” There’s a spine tingling power in her desire to stop from being overwhelmed. I think a lot of us have been feeling those lows and highs and nothing in between for a long time now making the emotional core of “Silent” that much more effective. Here is my one nitpick: “Silent” should not fade out. This is where Andy’s penchant for spectualr explosive finales is required! I would gladly revel in an extended stretch here. Speaking of emotion, “Fight or Flight” quietly builds from a gentle reference of blue skies to storm clouds on the horizon. This song is about fear and dread as it swells and surges with appropriate turbulence. Jossi has endowed the music with a cinematic drama that reminds me of the bitter apex of “Polaroids” by the all-time great Kitchens of Distinction and when the celestial peaks here DeVault emotionally begs to be able to “stay” – to keep safe from those storm clouds, whether figurative from so much divisiveness currently running through our collective veins or literally as more and more of us are being struck by “natural” disaster. Those storm clouds could be anything that scare us, and when she sings the closing chorus refrain “is there any way to stay / to hold it all in / or to push it all away,” we can feel the fear like a rush of overwhelming emotion that suddenly bursts into our nose and eyes.
Demon Slayer opens with the perfect pop of “Take a Break,” which is so catchy that it immediately begs to be heard over and over. The patience preached in the song is a valuable lesson for all of us as, just as is the lesson of perseverance of “Demon Slayer.”
“Promises” is a dreamy acoustic song that addresses our inherent individualness versus our need for companionship. The ‘promise’ being that we hope we will find another half to our being, but realizing that we are inherently alone: “It’s a solitary sadness / a bittersweet refrain.”. “Decay” reflects back to good times and worries that those may not be felt again. Meanwhile, the fantasy of “Willow” is a warm embrace of the power of love and how its highs can make us so desperate to make the feeling last forever, and then the defiant “My Way” finds power, freedom, and solace in ending a relationship and moving forward on one’s own.
The closing two songs “Turned to Stone” and “Empty Spaces” both rival the earlier emotional high marks mentioned earlier. I wrote about the Covid isolation infected “Turned to Stone” (one of 2025’s greatest songs!) last year and its well-worn deep sadness and loss still cuts deep, all while still charming with a sing along accessibility, and a hummable bass-line. “Empty Spaces” is a closing mournful epic that is the sadness of the previously feared storm clouds and decay and sinks deep into mourning and loss, which are tangible and heavy.
I think the immaculate crystalline music and production on Demon Slayer boosts these songs and elevates them beyond mere dream pop or indie pop directly to greatness. Yes, there’s a lot to like hear while bopping around. The melodies are indescribably fantastic, and yet they are grounded with drama and feeling. This is not superfluous. This is important. The lesson I’ve learned from this collection of songs is that being vulnerable and open is a strength and though it may open one up to harsher lows, it can bring bigger highs, but it’s still good to take a break and take care. That openness is perfectly reflected by Jossi's 4AD/Vaughan Oliver/Chris Biggs inspired cover art depicting a hairless cat evoking the nakedness of vulnerability. It’s difficult to believe that these two have never actually met in person, because the music they create is so perfect. Please do not miss this.
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