PREPARE YOURSELF BEFORE DIVING INTO THE RESIDENTS’ NEWEST LP ‘DOCTOR DARK’

Though gently described as “avant-pop,” The Residents are more accurately pronounced as an enigma. They’ve been at this for several decades, managing to conceal their identity much better than similar attempts (think Deadmaus for nihilists). This key identifier—or lack thereof—gives the collective unbridled freedom, which they explore relentlessly. For better or worse, this makes for some intense lyrical themes and sonic choices. Their record, ‘Doctor Dark,’ is not for the faint hearted; the LP explores existential dread in great detail. Truthfully, I feel the need to issue a content warning before proceeding. They say beautiful art often disturbs, however, I would be an irresponsible journalist if I ignored the gore.

‘Doctor Dark’ will not be everyone’s cup of tea. I’m not sure it’s mine; I appreciate its deeply profound approach to life and death. It’s not “bad”; instead, I believe it to be a masterpiece, unlike anything I’ve ever heard. However, it forces audiences to face fears head-on in a way I would typically only recommend doing in therapy. Artistically, this record is phenomenal; I’m glad it disturbed me, to the point of gagging occasionally, considering the key factor that it’s based on a real story—one my dad lived through personally. He’s a classic metalhead who always tells me how the Reagan administration tried shutting the entire genre down during the Satanic Panic movement. This chilling perspective of the story sent a shiver down my spine, turning personal existential dread into sobering reality. Somehow, the rock opera healed something within me.

The Satanic Panic movement was a complex, layered topic. However, it was mainly catalyzed by a lawsuit against Judas Priest. Parents blamed the metalheads for causing their kids to commit suicide. This lawsuit started a ripple effect, with people blaming heavy metal for quite a bit more than a single entity can perhaps be responsible for. Though disturbing, this kind of commentary gets this pretentious journalist salivating. I will likely tell my loved ones about this record for years, praising its gore as much as it shook me. The record isn’t glorifying suicide, though the descent into the river at the end might have you feeling like it is. Instead, it forces us to ask ourselves this: are humans scared of dying or losing our identity?

The more I sat with it, the more I realized I was grappling with the fear of losing myself. Death is presumed to be the ultimate end, and materialists like myself tend to believe nothing exists after that. However, the Residents impacted me through Doctor Dark because they made me realize how tightly people cling to their identity. Moreover, we cling desperately to the people with whom we connect. A central plot point of the LP toys is the interconnected, inevitable fates of the three main characters. The Doctor Dark character holds their fates in his hands with “The Gift,” which promises the ability to choose your inevitable mortal ending. I decided, based on his graphic descriptions of the people he spared in “The Gift,” that maybe I don’t want to be a recipient of it.

Somehow, I believe it cured the fears I was facing by making me stare it right into its bulging eyeballs. Admittedly, these fears were faced silently, but I don’t doubt I wasn’t upholding as good a poker face as I assumed. My body tends to choose “flight” over “fight,” so I put the record down in three separate sessions before finishing it. Thankfully, it is separated into three acts, likely an intentional artistic choice. It’s a lot to digest. Maybe you won’t digest it; it’ll come up the other end. Who knows? Give it a chance anyway.

Sonically, it gets a bit repetitive at times. I have this gripe with most industrial-based records, which might be a personal taste issue. Still, ‘Doctor Dark’ is not so much about the sounds it’s making as it is about what it’s saying to audiences. It’s a heavy metal record in the truest sense imaginable—though it’s not what you’d expect it to sound like. It’s not going to sound like Judas Priest, but the political, social, and philosophical commentary it presents undoubtedly belongs within the metal genre. “White Guys With Guns” is the most obvious of the record’s commentary. However, its use of experimentation, like its use of gunshot sounds, makes its message linger long past your first listen. The Residents suggest, “Life is just a jizzy pisshole of farts and empty manholes.”

That’s not their entire philosophy. Consequently, I believe they are satirically contradicting people who feel that way. The inevitability of life itself is profound; therefore, reducing it to somber meaninglessness just because it ends feels redundant—silly, even. The Residents’ approach is brutal, with “Remembering Mother” taking me a while to stomach fully, despite its efforts to humanize the omnipotent Doctor. Many of The Residents’ true feelings lie in the second act.

For example, the act presents plentiful religious allegory, again to a satirical degree. They aren’t severe, occasionally imitating the mantras issued by those pushing the Satanic Panic agenda. I wondered if The Residents suggested that being entirely one way or the other could be harmful and that there are ways to enjoy life in the present moment without extremes. ‘Doctor Dark’ offers the same pattern as the saddest Shakespearean tragedy; everyone dies in those. However, there is somehow something deeply positive about it simultaneously. “The Gift” wouldn’t make me feel any better about the realities of mortality. Instead, Doctor Dark can stay far away from me. This record cured my nihilistic materialism.

I also listened to Sabrina Carpenter as a palate cleanser immediately after.