L.A. Witch’s sound conjures the image of the three witches, the weird sisters, in Shakespeare’s Macbeth: Pai the thunder, English the lighting, and Sanchez the rain. Their allure is spooky and titillating, compelling the listener to bang their head with the power of ancient witches, especially the ones whose spirits wander the streets of Los Angeles, where the band calls home. DOGGOD, the band’s third studio album, the final contribution to this echoey triptych that has been their discography, abundant with reverb that bounces around the paved bed of the Los Angeles River, manipulates, toys with, and teases the theme of domination versus submission. Who is the God here, and who is the Dog? Each song stabs at the answer. A few words repeat throughout the album, namely “distress” and “forlorn,” embodying the themes of an album full of yearning desire, not above dying in the pursuit of love in all its power.

1. Icicle

For an album that revels in paradoxes (i.e. dog/god, distressed/calm, dominate/submit, dream/reality, king/queen), it only makes sense that the first song of the album opens with a lyrical contradiction: “Icicle, won’t you cleanse my soul/ You are sharp and cold/ Purity come make me bleed.” Purification through mutilation, a taunting and bloody idea suggested over the psychedelic/gothic cumbia pluck of the guitar, establishes the album as one of affliction and release.

2. Kiss Me Deep

‘Kiss Me Deep’ plays with the rhythmic continuity of a train rolling over its tracks, the guitar playing a chugga-chugga over the bass while the drums dance on the cymbal and snare. The song possesses a kind of dark, deep dark loyalty to love and desire: “You love me like a precious dog/ You licked me like a hungry dog.” Perhaps there is power in being a dog, content in its position of subservience as long as it remains beloved. A notable mention in ‘Kiss Me Deep’ is “gallows,” perhaps a nod to the murdered witches after which the band takes its name. This connection between the women who were condemned as witches and modern women, an inheritance of punishment, lasts in “every life,” but thankfully so does being kissed.

3. 777

The album picks up pace in ‘777’, a number considered angelic and related to the pursuit of love and suffering for it. Sanchez sings her lo-fi croon as the drums march along like an army of angels, ready to kill for love, like the gothic/horror divine this song is, as it depicts lovers lying prostrate on the floor like a “wounded warrior” or “forlorn soldier.” If the previous song revels in being a dog, this one remains weary of being on top. The lyrics provoke “Does glory lead to our demise?” as the guitar plucks like a lonely wind chime and only the drums are heard in accompaniment.

4. I Hunt You Pray

The Dog/God paradox reaches a particularly macabre mood in ‘I Hunt You Pray’. Darkness haunts Sanchez’s vocals, which drone like a very dreary huntress crawling across a dirty pub floor, tired of waiting for affection. The homophone in the title “I hunt you pray” could also be heard as “I hunt you prey,” the second of which sounds slightly more menacing. She repeats that line with a pause between you and pray, playing with our ears even further, reveling in inexactitude, the liminal space between the hunter and hunted, dog and god. Towards the end of the song, an ethereal synthesizer mingles with the guitar, bass, and drums, like an elucidatory light growing brighter and louder, stealing the song from the vocals, which perhaps has become its own kind of prey to the music.

5. Eyes of Love

With a folkier twist, ‘Eyes of Love’ takes some respite from dark desire turning into a shimmering reflection. Talk of revelations and biblical imagery, like a crown of thorns, “Heaven in your eyes,” “consecrate your beauty and power,” and the album cover of two hands clasped in a prayer position around a dagger (not unlike the cross-shaped dagger Macbeth used to kill King Banquo) evokes the spirituality of love. If these eyes of love can cast a glance of affection, they can also devour.

6. THE LINES

At the outset of this song, Pai’s hypotonic style of bass sounds like its sister instrument, the cello, making the song exude a genre-bending post-punk and gothic sound. The lyrics reach a poetic altitude, as Sachez’s vocals trace ambivalent, invisible lines. An organ intercedes with an ethereal hum as the guitar plays through a smoke-filled room. English on drums acts as glue, turning the song into a sermon one might hear performed at the church of L.A. Witch.

7. Lost at the Sea

A scenic drive up the 101, a California road trip, an ol’ timey ghost town, this song slows down as guitar plays a gentle strum, the drums tick a melody like an ambivalent clock, and the vocals speak of “the sirens sing” and “songs of deities,” two images of womanhood and seduction. Sirens, seabound mermaid creatures in Greek mythology known to drag sailors to their death, mix their noise with deities, demanding to be heard. Cosmic power draws two ships, two lovers, together, but one without the other causes sails to drift. When this happens, the vocals become lost at sea, appearing sparsely between the guitar and synthesizer’s melodies.

8. DOGGOD

The surf rock sound that originated in Southern California claims its spot on the beach in the album’s titular track, surfing the waves that were once looked at longingly, and now are being ridden with glee. ‘DOGGOD’ revels in submission: “Want me to be down at your feet/ I beg and cry for my relief,” and finds power in a lower position. Sanchez has made a symbolic connection between women and dogs, their shared perceived subservient positions in society, but that is the power of the palindrome, the meaning changes based on perspective.

9. SOS

This album rocks, floating up and down across the desert sea, jerking with the tide, going out with a bang. ‘SOS’ rises from the bottom of the ocean to the surface “where it’s not that deep blue.” This song closes the album by evoking the first song. Instead of an icicle, frozen in time, dripping with potential danger, ‘SOS’ is a hanging on an iceberg. There is a religious element to this roundabout conclusion, like the second-coming of a chunk of ice, but in a stronger and deeper, although not less deadly, form. Sanchez’s vocals rise to a yell, like a coming wave, shouting “may date may date,” and for “deliverance,” then falls, overtaken by the band’s crescendo, ending with an echo like this whole album is just a memory, stuck in your head, a mirage indeed.