Lauren RabainoThe fact that you are reading this is a minor miracle. You see, this “new” record from the Raveonettes, “Lust Lust Lust,” actually came out more than two months ago, and the album preceding it, “Pretty in Black,” was as trite and redundant an affair as Columbia ever put out, the musical equivalent of a Tim Allen movie.
See, ordinarily I wouldn’t have the gall to commit a double hipster faux pas by breaking two unspoken rules: 1) You’re not allowed to like an album any later than the actual release date, and 2) Bands are never allowed a second chance; one bad record is a crime punishable by death and subsequent eternal damnation in band hell.
But I don’t care about any of that – I’m still listening because “Lust Lust Lust” is an incredibly rich record. Sune Rose Wagner and Sharin Foo have finally perfected the timeless sound they started pursuing six years ago, when the Copenhagen-based duo released their first noisy EP, “Whip It On.” Note that when I say “timeless,” I don’t really mean “timeless” so much as “drawing on elements from slightly different eras.” Major contributions come from ’60s surf rock and ’80s noise pop, but I’d say the closest approximation is Frank Black’s dissonant spacey phase with the Pixies’ “Bossanova.”
From the lead track, “Aly Walk With Me,” it’s clear something’s different from the placid tedium of 2005’s “Pretty in Black.” With this song, they’ve lifted a hip-hop time signature and married it to a shoe-gaze wall of noise and feedback, which patiently builds into an unrelenting assault on your ears, leaving them breathlessly exhausted, utterly satisfied and probably more than a little bloody.
As you might have guessed, the subject of the album is indeed LUST. But the songs address not just the visceral surge of everyone’s favorite emotion but also its messy side effects. The haunting “Dead Sound” is a prime example, focusing on the guilty, empty reflection of a boy’s wandering heart: “And now you go through a million girls / And try to pick what’s right / When nightfall comes and you’re still alone / Do you feel it deep inside? / Dead Sound.” The deadpan, reverb-heavy vocals achieve the incredibly strange effect of emphatic detachment, perfectly suited to expressing the emotion of the lyrics with devastating accuracy. (Watch the video if you get a chance.)
Probably their most diverse song set, these Danes cover straight-up surf rock (“Black Satin”), downbeat balladry (“Expelled from Love”) and generally ditch their previously narrow musical template. (Their first EP was all in B-flat minor, and their first full-length album was in B major.) My personal favorite (today) is the thrashing “Blush,” which temporarily forsakes the standard fare harmonizing in favor of Sune going solo, belting out the beautifully upfront expository, “Despite my hurtful ways / I can still make you blush.”
Considering that everyone and their mom had pretty much written off the Raveonettes as used-up-sepia-tinted-chewing-gum-retro-gimmick-rockers a couple years ago, this lusty record really is somewhat of a miracle – a resurrection, really. Praise be.
Jesse Bo Widmark is an architectural engineering senior and a business director for KCPR, San Luis Obispo, 91.3 FM.