It is hard to picture Lo Moon’s self-titled release as the band’s debut; it’s just such an uncharacteristic first album. It doesn’t ooze bottled-up passion, or even just the rawness that first releases tend to exhibit. There is a sense of sagacity and self-assured maturity in Lo Moon that makes it sound as if it is from a band that has been in the music business for a while. Take the simple fact that every song flows into the next one: a not-so-subtle—and blatantly hubristic—way of suggesting to the listener that the album needs to be experienced in its entirety, in the sequence deemed appropriate by the band!
This audacity is almost needed to successfully execute an album of this intricacy and complexity by a debut artist. Lo Moon is an elaborately crafted art-rock record, sounding as classy and classic as works by the likes of Peter Gabriel and Talk Talk.
On track one, “This Is It,” which conjures up jubilant elements of classic rock and psychedelic elements of progressive rock, frontman Matt Lowell’s cautiously vulnerable vocals sound eerily similar to Talk Talk’s Mark Hollis.
The group’s ambitiousness really comes to light in the seven minute long slow-burn “Loveless,” with its laidback trip-hop drum pattern that gets thunderous periodically. During the last three minutes, the song comes to a halt, sounding like a prayer, with spacey minimalistic keyboards and Lowell’s tender vocals, before dramatically exploding in the last minute, where colossal drums and consuming spacey effects take over, as Lowell sings: “Take my hand; in belief we trace our steps. Understand; no relief in silhouettes”: cryptic and hopeful, something that an alien might say while they are abducting you… such a perfect ending for this unsettlingly beautiful song.
The album, overall, has a sense of tranquility and spaciness with reflective synths and deliberate guitars played to create specific sonic effects. It is hard to pick out the different instruments, and the music works as a whole to create dense soundscapes with methodical and economical instrumentation.
Lowell’s sensitive vocals intensify the gravity of the music, giving the songs a sense of vulnerability and warmth. “Thorns” is a wonderful embodiment of how Lo Moon’s careful musicianship and Lowell’s heartfelt singing can achieve absolute brilliance. With its swooning synths, airy beats, and a comforting trumpet solo, “Thorns” is painfully poignant and pretty with a chorus that’s gorgeously melancholic and reassuring, where Lowell sings: “No one can love you the same; I’ll always want you this way; We’ll learn to outgrow / The thorns on the rose.”
Lo Moon is a sophisticated album for the thinking person. It doesn’t chase instant earworms, but trades this temptation for making art that’s intricate and thoughtful. And the best part is, Lo Moon are quite in their element making this art. They are not a “seasoned” outfit, but most certainly appear like one on this debut release, which is executed with fastidious perfection.