Release Date: May 24, 2011
It’s always been the general consensus that jam-band lovers are a different breed of music lover. The jam band-loving gene is one you either do or don’t have; it is exactly as uncomplicated as that. You either follow Phish around the country, or you do not. You either frequent My Morning Jacket concerts, or you refrain. Lunar Dunes’ latest album follows the same semilogical vein: it’s a simple “dig it or don’t” kind of situation. So it goes with the psychedelic jam band.
Lunar Dunes originally hail from London, sharing their 1960s-throwback instrumental experience with the masses. Decorating their largely improvised, psychedelic sound with ever-present pedal effects, multiple guitars, sporadic harp, and bluesy vocals that sound like something straight out of the opening to a good old James Bond film (take the opening track, “Moon Bathing,” which features airy female vocals exploring sharp accidentals with an ever-rising pitch), the band certainly has the concept of its sound locked down. And while this review could very quickly turn into an argument over whether or not the world particularly needs yet another psychedelic jam band in its various Spotify playlists—whether this type of musical endeavor is really worthy the world’s time at this point—that is not the issue at hand. That is another conversation entirely. The question at hand is whether or not this band is doing a good job in executing this type of music in its latest release, Galaxsea.
The answer to that is: undoubtedly, yes. Lunar Dunes have found their niche in psychedelic long-form improvisation for the 2010s. The album is paced extremely well, their production is well thought-out, and their trippy ambience is securely established, without question. If Portishead were happier (and a bit less original), their sound might approach something like Lunar Dunes’. They are certainly accomplishing that daze-inducing indie-psych sound they seem to be striving for. One listen to the Asian-inspired vamp in the opening to “Ayaz” is undoubtedly enough to ensure that. Or, at 10 minutes and 45 seconds, take “Svalbard,” which reaches across an entire spectrum of sounds—from held-out saxophone notes beneath echo-y vocals to full-out Middle Eastern dance percussion.
While ignored earlier, it is important to come back to that previous question of the place in the world for this kind of music. Whatever doubt exists about the worthwhile nature of this type of jam-band music is somewhat important in reviewing any band’s output of it. While they may be doing a fine job in execution, the lack of essential innovation does leave something substantial to be desired as a listener. Yes, the sounds are entirely cohesive, and yes, the vocals are on-key and integrated smoothly into the pulse of each tune, but to what degree does this album force us to challenge what we know of or expect from new music? What does Lunar Dunes offer in particular that we will eventually crave specifically and return to in order to experience again?
Unfortunately, the answer to that question is nowhere to be found in Galaxsea. It is a very fine psychedelic-jam record. But the degree of originality that makes an album worthy of heartfelt praise and replay after replay is not present. It’s quite fine, but it is what it is. Until that originality is present, Lunar Dunes will remain an odd but fitting cog in a big old jam-band machine.
Lunar Dunes – Galaxsea tracklist:
- “Moon Bathing”
- “Oriental Pacific”
- “Oh You Strange Tune”
- “Pharaoh’s Dream”
- “Ayaz”
- “Svalbard”
- “Free to Do”
- “Eastern Promise”
- “Off World Beacon”
