Content Warning: Several topics including self-harm, sexual assault, heavy language.
It’s incredibly easy to unfairly judge Portland, Oregon’s Vylet Pony. Whether it’s her being a queer transgender woman, her involvement in the fandom for the popular and comforting kids show “My Little Pony,” her affinity for Internet culture or the provocative cover art of “Monarch of Monsters.” That’s to name a few things that people would cast judgment on her for without seeing the full picture. Vylet is so incredibly brave to be herself and share her art with the world. I used to judge her and let her identity and affinities stop me from listening to her music, since I’m not a part of the fandom her music is inspired by, but those who don’t listen to her music for trivial and biased reasons like that are certainly missing out.
“Monarch of Monsters” is certainly Vylet’s most ambitious work thus far. It has numerous content warnings, such as blood and gore, self-harm, suicide, sexual assault, existential and cosmic horror, the usage of the f-slur and cannibalism. This album, and by proxy, this review, may be distressing for those who are put off by these topics. It’s a good idea to abstain from engaging with “Monarch of Monsters” in any capacity, if you are one of those people. Vylet does not condone engagement in these bleak topics by any means; this is just her reflecting on a life of regrets and shame, hurting so many people in the process without a chance to truly make things right.
There is a novella available online that acts as a supplement to the album. This review will only cover the album, but the full story of “Monarch of Monsters” can only be truly understood by reading the lyrics along with the novella. It is always a special occasion when musical artists have works of writing attached to albums as a supplement to enhance the general artistic vision.
“Pest” starts the album off with a cheerful piano that develops with a violin, guitar, drums and a trumpet, but don’t let that fool you. The lyrics depict self-loathing to the point of self-harming and past regrets impacting the present. The lyric “What’s the point of saving the world or yourself when the greatest villain is you?” stood out. This entire album is from the perspective of The Wolf, formerly known as the pegasus Vylet Cypress, before being turned into a wolf after killing her loved ones and absorbing their magic as a punishment for her sins.
If “Pest” didn’t highlight how dark “Monarch of Monsters” is going to be, “PLAY DEAD! PLAY DEAD!” spells it out for you. This is the point of no return. Starting with a beautiful electronic melody and backed by heavy rock or metal instrumentation, the protagonist has a self-deprecating crisis that depicts her transformation into a wolf. The Wolf has trouble facing her demons, so she tries her best not to think about the issues as reflected in the lyrics at the beginning.
“The Heretic (Woe Is Me)” highlights not only Vylet’s absolute prowess and versatility in vocal performance over an instrumental that partially sounds like digipop artist Jane Remover’s “frailty” with bright guitar phrases. Yet hints of influential experimental rock band Slint or maybe industrial metal band Nine Inch Nails appear with the prominent bass during the chorus. The second verse recalls metal band Deftones’ calmer songs, while lyrically exploring how The Wolf views herself as a sinner that cannot be redeemed.
“Survivor’s Guilt” is a groovy song that elaborates on the mental state of The Wolf, who is paranoid about surveillance and unable to come to terms with her regrets.
“Vitality Glitch” has somewhat of a trip-hop influence before becoming more atmospheric with violins. The instrumental synth solo is gorgeous. Vylet’s singing is kind of similar to experimental pop artist Björk’s in the verses. The lyric in the chorus “And when I smile, I turn to cry. No happiness should be mine” is so simple yet so effective at conveying the guilt The Wolf has.
“The Wallflower Equation,” which is exactly twelve minutes long, is nothing short of phenomenal. The instrumental after the lyrics “Burn the wallflower, loneliness empowers” was so cathartic. It once again becomes cathartic for another four minutes and 10 seconds with explosive synths. Then a saxophone or clarinet comes into the mix. The sound is reminiscent of the art rock band Black Country, New Road if they used electronic sounds. Vylet may be the “Avatar” of music, with all the genres and influences she draws from.
“Princess Cuckoo” is where it really hits the fan. Over a looming bassline similar to a song from “Filth” by experimental rock band Swans, Vylet paints the vividly disturbing image of The Wolf being sexually assaulted. It’s nothing short of horrifying, especially with Vylet’s timid vocals.
The twenty-two minute behemoth of a track with thirteen parts, “Sludge,” is a representation of The Wolf’s death, defilement and saving by the sheep goddess Aria in vivid detail with very impressive instrumentation on many fronts. To describe it all feels futile with how many moving parts there are. The content warnings still apply.
“Revenge Fantasy” feels like the climax of The Wolf’s character arc. It starts off calmly as to give the listener some time to breathe after how intense “Sludge” was. Vylet screaming “You should have pulled the trigger when you had the chance” sounds, while morbid, hopeful as well in a way especially with the electronic sounds kicking in after the screaming is over. This pattern repeats again near the end of the song.
“Huntress” starts off sexually and dysfunctional lyrically, but the choruses breathe consciousness and introspection about how The Wolf’s and Aria’s love is slowly helping The Wolf heal. Of course, the road to recovery is extremely difficult and cannot be cured with love, but even just one positive relationship in a sea of toxicity can help.
The next track, “…and, as her howl echoed unto eventide, she became the far seer’s hunting dog…” is a wall of built-up guitar noises reminiscent of black metal that’s somehow pleasant to the ears.
“Rest Now, Little Wolf (A Vigil For Aria, or, How the Lamb Stood in an Empty Room Filled with Empty Friends)” is the final song of this concept album. Vylet’s high-pitched voice is beautiful. The spoken word portion has a very poignant section: “Conceal not your mistakes, but allow them to be a sputtering torch. Illuminate the path for those that follow to be gentle, to be kind.” Never let your mistakes be for naught. Use them as ways to educate others and grow past them. It is the only way we can truly redeem ourselves to prevent the mistakes from continuing.
Vylet, thank you for making this album. I believe this will go down in history as one of the boldest and most beautiful pieces of art ever. It comforts me on so many levels despite how dark it is, and I know I’m not alone in feeling this way. “Behind every exquisite thing that existed, there was something tragic,” as Oscar Wilde wrote in “The Picture of Dorian Gray.”
Rating: 5/5
Great review 👍 this album is something special