One of two records
Jack White wrote and recorded during the COVID-19 pandemic,
Fear of the Dawn is a brittle, cacophonic affair, a claustrophobic exploration of the titular idea.
White came across the notion of eosophobia -- a Greek term for dreading the dawn -- then used that concept as the backbone for his heavier, weirder songs, leaving the softer material for the subsequent Entering Heaven Alive. He's so besotted with this phobia that he's titled a quarter of the album's 12 songs after it, then wrote additional songs called "Into the Twilight," "Dusk," and "Morning, Noon and Night," giving
Fear of the Dawn a thematic lyrical thread to accompany its arty freak-outs. Many of
White's familiar tropes are readily apparent here -- heavy-footed blues stomps, manic vocal wails, cascading waves of guitar fuzz -- but the execution and feel are different here, as if the analog warrior has plunged himself into digital madness. Acoustic guitars and the occasional piano can be heard on the margins, yet they're buried underneath gnarled, noisy guitars that are flattened, processed, and used as weapons.
White speeds and slows his voice along with his six-string, his rhythms stutter and strut, melodies are used as much for texture as they are for hooks. The focus isn't on a song, per se, as much is it is on mood, namely a roiling, consuming paranoia conveyed by all this furious noise and off-kilter arrangements.
Fear of the Dawn isn't often a pleasant listen, but it wasn't meant to be: it's a dark adventure, an album designed to provoke and stoke fears, not to soothe them. ~ Stephen Thomas Erlewine