Thank you Eric and Foxy D!
Two factors converged to pique my interest in this release from Tacoma Washington’s LA Lungs: (1) a recent feature article in this publication that suggested an entirely unassuming and pretense-free approach to their music, and (2) the label – Seattle based Debacle Records. My previous exposure to them was through the Extraordinary Pigeons, a group I still hope to hear more from soon. So it was with some excitement that I opened the striking cover on this self-titled cdr, and dug into its innards.
From the initial track’s ebowed guitar swells and looped vocal samples (from old TV broadcasts), LA Lungs conquer not through sheer blunt force, but rather with more hypnotic strategies. The basic approach here seems to be a somewhat painterly approach to sound. Colors and shades are introduced slowly, and nothing is rushed. Instead, a sense of calm, patience, and command of materials is imbued. Each track stays within a defined palette. Thankfully, the duo (Nathan and Lori) seem unhindered by the need to impress with displays of musical prowess. That’s not to say that what’s on display here is less than exciting – it’s just that they know exactly what sounds to add to achieve their results without resorting to clichés or simply piling on too much. Sonically, the eight tracks here traverse waters from drone to ambient to some of the synthier Kraut forebears such as Klaus Schulze. Guitar is used in relatively sparing ways throughout, with synth washes, tone clusters, and spoken word snippets being the primary tools. And although minor keys predominate, LA Lungs are not afraid to let consonance and beauty emerge from within their work. Their name may suggest the clang and claustrophobia of industrial music, but that’s only one tiny thread in the fabric here.
To carry the visual art analogy a little further, the paintings LA Lungs create on this release are anything but busy and cluttered. Each track strives to set a mood and sustain it. It is only upon listening to the entire record straight through that a sense of narrative, logic, and emotion emerges. In fact, it’s the latter characteristic that lingers most after listening. Simply put, this is a beautiful and haunting record of melancholic minor-key music. And this is where the duo play to their real strengths – the ability to create an album length whole made up of fairly modest components. One minor gripe must be mentioned – the use of spoken word samples in several tracks. When heavily processed (as in the heavily delayed and looped samples of “John Updike”), they work quite well. But when left on their own (see opener “1971”), they detract, giving the listener easy referents, when the better payoffs come from purely musical forms of mystery. Admittedly this is a personal pet peeve, and may not affect other listeners in the same way at all. But even with this flaw, LA Lungs have captured my attention with a marvelous record. I hope next time they go even further out in their explorations of melancholy experimental sound manipulation. Whatever the case, their next step is sure to be fascinating and well worth hearing. 9/10 --
Eric Hardiman (11 March, 2009)