Forgottensong
“City Of Thieves”
“City of Thieves,” from Down to the Filter
Directed by Scott Allyn
Mother West
Added 11/20/2024
One doesn’t need an atlas to know the exact location of the City of Thieves. Wherever they are, that’s where it is. The same dynamics of deceit and misdirection are at work all over the planet, in every town, in every exchange between neighbors, and in every chilly interaction between strangers. The civic sphere has become a place of fierce and silent competition. It’s this realm that Forgottensong is investigating in their latest single: a world of deception and prejudice, pirates and phantoms, mind tricks, hollow creeds, and dangerous angles. That world is, of course, this one.
About Forgottensong and “City of Thieves”
The Barcelona based band has matched its observations to music that amplifies the spare eloquence of poetry. Forgottensong has never had to be loud to be powerful, and on “City of Thieves,” the group lets their ideas — compositional, sonic, and conceptual — set the tempo. The writing is tight, economical, and epigrammatic, full of indelible images and ringing turns of phrase. The arrangement has a similar sort of gravity: it’s all gently propulsive drums, firmly strummed acoustic and electric guitars, and a haunted lead vocal performance from a man who sounds like he’s seen too much. This is folk-rock at its most penetrating and most revealing, and a perfect musical setting for a complex tale that deserves to be told.
By no means is this the first time that Forgottensong has grappled with a difficult subject. They’ve wrung irresistible pop-rock out of turbulent human behavior before. Religion, unrequited love, societal breakdown, the price of dishonesty: they’ve confronted all of it. The band has been writing and recording for years, constantly refining their vision and sharpening their skills, and “City of Thieves” is the culmination of that quest.
About the “City Of Thieves” Video
Director Scott Allyn is the viewer’s guide to the backstreets and alleys of the City of Thieves, and his vision is simultaneously twisted and familiar. His City is black and white — because that’s how we’ve begun to see the world — but the shapes are constantly melting and morphing. Lines twist and blur, and the faces of passersby seem to come apart as they near the camera. A parade becomes something slightly sinister: a whirl of hypnotic action and strange vectors of movement. Not quite animated and not quite live-action, the “City of Thieves” clip shows the audience a world that’s impossible to pin down or fully apprehend, and one where deception and misapprehension is constantly around.