Pallbearer music. That is how some people described it back in the late nineties when San Diego was still reeling from the explosion of its local post-hardcore scene. But The Black Heart Procession wasn't really about the heavy riffs or the screaming. It was about the silence between the notes. It was about the sound of a cold wind blowing through a cracked window in an empty house.
Honestly, if you were hanging around the Casbah or any dive bar in Southern California circa 1998, you knew the name. Pall Jenkins and Tobias Nathaniel didn't just start a band; they created a mood that became a literal genre for a specific type of melancholic soul. They were coming off the heels of Three Mile Pilot, a band that already had a cult following, but this was different. It was darker. It was slower. It was better.
What People Get Wrong About the "Slowcore" Label
People love boxes. Critics, especially back then, needed a place to put a band that didn't fit on the radio. They called it slowcore. They lumped them in with Low or Bedhead. While those bands are incredible, The Black Heart Procession had a cinematic, almost noir quality that the others lacked. It wasn't just slow; it was haunted.
Think about the instrumentation. You had the saw. Not many indie rock bands in 1999 were featuring a musical saw as a lead instrument. When Jenkins played it, the sound was eerie and wailing, mimicking a human voice that had lost its way. It gave tracks on 1 and 2—yes, they basically just numbered their early albums—this texture that felt like it belonged in a David Lynch film set in a rainy shipyard.
The band's aesthetic was consistently bleaker than their peers. They didn't do "sad" in a whiny way. They did "sad" in a "the world is indifferent to your suffering" way. That’s a huge distinction. It’s why fans still obsess over The Spell or 2 decades later. It’s a specific kind of catharsis that doesn't age because loneliness doesn't age.
The San Diego Roots and the Touch and Go Era
San Diego in the nineties was a strange place for music. You had the "San Diego Sound"—think Drive Like Jehu or Rocket from the Crypt—which was all jagged edges and high energy. The Black Heart Procession was the hangover after that party.
When they signed to Touch and Go Records, it was a massive deal. That label was the gold standard for independent music. Being on the same roster as Slint or Shellac gave them immediate "cool" points, but they were the outliers. They weren't math rock. They weren't noise rock. They were just... heavy. Emotionally heavy.
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If you listen to "The Waiter" series of songs, you see the narrative depth Jenkins was aiming for. It wasn't just about a guy at a restaurant. It was a recurring character, a motif of service and invisibility. This kind of conceptual songwriting is something you don't see as often in the "let's just jam" indie scene of the mid-2000s. They were intentional. Every creak of a chair and every muffled drum beat was there for a reason.
Why "2" is Still the Masterpiece
Let's talk about the second album. Released in 1999, 2 is arguably their high-water mark. It’s where the vision fully crystallized.
The opening track, "The Sinking Boats," sets a terrifyingly beautiful tone. Then you hit "A Light So Dim." That song is a masterclass in tension. It builds, but it never "drops" in the way modern listeners might expect. It just lingers. It’s uncomfortable. It’s perfect.
- The Instrumentation: Trumpets that sound like they're being played at a funeral three blocks away.
- The Lyrics: Jenkins has this way of writing lyrics that are simple but gut-wrenching. "I'll be waiting for you... in the dark." It’s a trope, sure, but he makes you believe he's actually standing there in the shadows.
- The Production: It’s lo-fi but warm. It sounds like it was recorded on a vintage tape machine that was slightly out of alignment.
Critics at the time, including those at Pitchfork and The A.V. Club, recognized that the band was doing something distinct. They weren't trying to be the next big thing. They were trying to be the last thing you heard before you fell asleep.
The Evolution and the "Hiatus" That Never Really Was
As they moved into the 2000s, the sound expanded. Three and Amore del Tropico brought in more diverse influences. You started hearing bits of Latin percussion and more complex arrangements. Some fans missed the starkness of the first two records, but the evolution was necessary. A band can only stay in a dark basement for so long before they need to crack a window.
Amore del Tropico is a weird record. It’s sort of a murder mystery concept album. It’s got a bit of a tango vibe in places. It showed that Nathaniel and Jenkins were musicians first and "sad guys" second. They had chops.
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Then things got quiet. After Six in 2009, the "procession" slowed down significantly. There were tours here and there. They did some anniversary shows where they played the old hits—if you can call them hits. But they never officially "broke up" in the messy way most bands do. They just sort of drifted into the fog, which is exactly how they should have handled it.
The Legacy of the Musical Saw
It’s impossible to talk about this band without mentioning the saw again. It became their calling card. In a world of over-driven guitars, the saw was a revelation. It’s a difficult instrument to play well, especially in a live setting. Jenkins would sit there, bending the metal, creating these microtonal shifts that felt like they were vibrating in your chest.
It influenced a whole wave of "weird" folk and indie bands. You can hear echoes of that haunting, non-traditional instrumentation in bands like Neutral Milk Hotel or even later Arcade Fire. The idea that you could take a tool from a shed and make it the emotional centerpiece of a song was radical.
How to Listen to The Black Heart Procession Today
If you’re coming to them fresh, don't start with the later stuff. You have to go in order.
- Start with "1": It’s the rawest. It’s basically a blueprint.
- Move to "2": This is the one you buy on vinyl. It’s the definitive experience.
- Check out "The Spell": It’s a bit more polished, but the songwriting is incredibly sharp.
Avoid listening to them while you're already having a bad day unless you really want to lean into it. This is "active listening" music. You can't just put it on in the background while you're doing dishes. Well, you could, but you’d probably end up staring out the window for twenty minutes forgetting what you were doing.
The Black Heart Procession remains one of the most important "secret" bands of the last thirty years. They never had a massive radio hit. They never played Coachella main stages. But they influenced a generation of musicians who realized that being quiet is often more powerful than being loud.
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Actionable Steps for the Modern Listener
To truly appreciate what this band built, you need to step away from the shuffle button. The way music is consumed now—bits and pieces, 30-second clips for social media—is the antithesis of what Jenkins and Nathaniel created.
Vinyl is the way to go. If you can find an old pressing of 2, grab it. The analog warmth suits the "saw and piano" aesthetic perfectly. There’s a grit there that digital files sometimes smooth over too much.
Look into the side projects. Pall Jenkins’ work with Mr. Tube and the Flying Objects is a trip. It’s like a psychedelic version of the Procession. It gives you context for where his head was at.
Watch live footage. There are some old clips from European festivals in the early 2000s on YouTube. Watch how they interact on stage. There isn't much talking. They just inhabit the space. It’s a lesson in performance art without the pretension.
Support the labels. Companies like Touch and Go and Temporary Residence Ltd. kept this kind of music alive when everyone else was chasing the "garage rock revival." Buying a shirt or a physical record from their stores actually makes a difference for the archives of these artists.
The Black Heart Procession isn't a band you outgrow. You just wait for the weather to turn cold enough to need them again. When the sky is grey and the city feels a little too empty, their music is exactly where it needs to be.