Michael Gira is a case study in aging gracefully. 2012, the year of the thirtieth anniversary of his experimental group Swans, became a banner thanks to The Seer, an ecstatic death waltz, liberated and unflinching in a way that can only grow from age's wisdom.
Despite the funky, lumbering body that new single "A Little God In My Hands" initially finds itself in – less his previous record's horrifying dischord and more cool dad drunk at kid's birthday – Gira's working with tested methods (and St. Vincent's Annie Clark). He guides the track into a big band supernova, guitar picking gentle and ominous like light blood rain, a dreadful and perplexing orchestra all his own. And it's totally under his command as he drifts between soothsayer snarl and fork-tongued, pot-bellied lothario, triumphantly screaming "What's my name? Oh yeah, oh yeah!" He's got a little God on his hands, and he's wiping the bloodstains off on his bare, sweaty chest.