Life & PVRIS
There's a deafening sense of vulnerability that exists in the music of PVRIS. A vulnerability so refreshing and captivating, you have no choice but to become entranced. Leaving no room to hide, vocalist Lyndsey Gunnulfsen's lyrics not so much as demand, but coax, you to reflect on your innermost thoughts. To reflect on these thoughts would mean that you would have to accept them—a task proven hard for any human being. And to reflect on those thoughts, would force you to pause and look at yourself and the world around you, a concept so foreign in today's world of persistent worries and temporary satisfaction. We'd rather distract ourselves from our aches and ails rather than confront them head-on; the very thought of that confrontation is akin to dragging your fingernails across a chalkboard. Yet, PVRIS makes me want to do just that. Ridden with daily anxiety, I've preferred to stay within the means of my comfort zone. But, to be in my comfort zone would only feed the thing I dread the most—feeling stuck.
And so this is where PVRIS comes in...cue the end of my journal entry here (I'm kidding, you're stuck reading my thoughts for a little longer). There's always been this electric spark that materialized in me when I listened to PVRIS. Everything about them was a breath of fresh air. Their sound. Their demeanor. Their aesthetic. Their message. It all came together perfectly. But what really stood out to me the most was the vulnerability that permeated every song. Desperate pleas to be saved from Gunnulfsen’s inner demons in "Demon Limbs," or alleviation from the "shit in her head" via "St. Patrick" delivered waves of transparency. Other tracks hit me on a deeper personal level with themes of existentialism ("Empty") and relentless mental negativity ("What's Wrong"). I've always struggled with the purpose of my existence. What am I here to do on this larger than life planet...this infinite universe? Feelings of monotonous ennui creep up on me, so when I hear Gunn speaking on these same feelings—I realize that someone gets me. "What's Wrong" talks explicitly about the stagnant feeling of being discontent, despite having success and leading a generally good life. Where can you find that happiness? What makes you content? Reflecting on this has never been easy. I mean, I’ve literally had a million mid-life crises throughout my 24 years of life—I’m somewhat kidding.
On the one hand, I can easily say that I derive my joy and contentment from music, but on the other hand, I ask, to what degree? And how do I achieve that pure happiness? Ever since I’ve graduated college, I’ve been pummeled by these questions on a reoccurring basis. To be quite frank, it’s terrifying not knowing what your next step is in life after everything else has been planned out for you throughout your childhood and adolescent years. But despite this sore point in time, I’ve had the time to step back and see who I am and who I want to be—a moment of clarity dancing with a moment of uncertainty.
Interlaced are polarizations—polarizations that reveal the real realities of life. Pain to beauty. Love to heartbreak. Numbness to feeling. Hurt to healing. Light to darkness. Each spectrum of emotion is counteracted by a beautiful melody...a provoking visual...a softening phrase. This constant ebb and flow of dichotomy plays a vital role in the world of PVRIS. The natural elegance of a harp can be heard vying for control against the dark, unsettling process of losing and finding one's identity again in grounding songs like "Anyone Else." After much struggle,
Gunn, in a moment of epiphany, proclaims to not "belong to anyone else," leaving the listener to conclude that she has found her self-worth within herself, and not within someone else. In similar fashion, the harsh reflections of sentience are seen in the carefully constructed visuals found in PVRIS's music videos. The two-in-one music video for tracks, "Ghost" and "Let Them In," portray the back and forth motion of inner turmoil with shrouds of shadows afflicting feelings of disarray and haziness—a familiar feeling that can be attributed to anxiety and stress. While the video is fueled with blurs of grainy fatalism, there still lies underneath a sort of sublime emotion that only PVRIS could manage to truly pull off. Which brings us back to the core of all of these emotions...that distinct vulnerability that prevents you from turning away. Like the mirror symbolism from their first album, White Noise, you see yourself, and your struggles, cast back upon you.
Fast forward to 2019. The three-piece return with a reinvigorated spirit with the release of the Hallucinations EP. What's made PVRIS so great is still present in their new material. Clever usage of imagery, stunning visuals, sincere lyrics, alluring tones—all captivating to the senses of the human body. But there's something different this time around. There's an extra edge layered in the content, lyrically and sonically. Heavy, sharp synths are the driving force behind new tracks "Hallucinations" and "Nightmare," punching you straight in the gut with a power that's been bursting at the seams—like a bolt of electricity waiting to be released. Susceptible recollections are laid bare along with masterfully placed piano and strings in "Things Are Better" and "Old Wounds," displaying the heartfelt lyrics and bewitching sound PVRIS are well known for. The EP expresses a new energy that embraces the tribulations of life. Where once existed a succumbing to the weight of personal tellings and instrumentation, now exists three individuals who have accepted what life has thrown at them and have taken that opportunity to reflect and see the grace underneath the suffering.
And maybe that's what PVRIS is trying to teach you. Life has so many beautiful aspects, yet so much pain. But without the pain, we would never notice the beauty that exists right in front of us. Embracing life’s challenges in defiant persistence has always been ingrained in me, but I’ve always struggled with the cynical thinking that came along with it. Maybe I’ll never find true contentment, and maybe that’s for the better—to embrace is to accept and to accept is to change.