Amid all the hype about the groove-oriented post-punk revivalists (the Rapture, et al.), folks seem to have forgotten otehr aspects of the era-experiments with song structures, the influence of dub, an interest in synthesizers and other electronics, just to name a couple. If those things intrigued you about post-punk back in the day, then Share the Load will be right up your alley.
A former member of Lorelei (along with Chessie founder Stephen Gardner), Matthew Dingee here offers up his second full-length as Lu. The opening trio of tracks employs angular guitar riffs and hi-hat swishes, bursting with the wash of fuzz on "Not Enough Stuff." Gears then abruptly shift, as Lu enters into a series of low-key, somnolent electronic tracks, reminiscent of those on Surrender to the Night-era Trans Am. Share the Load rouses itself again with "Hot Asphalt Overhad" before "Clean Dirt Only" buzzes in. A mix of synth noise, pop-and-lock sequences, and bass drone, it's the best thing on the album.
Much like the way its individual songs are composed, Share the Load is a fractured listen, jumping from one sonic shade to the next and then back again. It demands focus but isn't impenetrable, and generally eschews melody for texture. Fusing the electronics with the downtown-scene riffing even more would be the direction Lu will hopefully take, but isn't that the Holy Grail for everyone these days?
Author: Sean Portnoy. Copyright © 2004 Grooves Magazine.
If you were to plot its music on a graph illustrating the evolution of "post-rock," sonically adventurous D.C. trio LU would probably fall somewhere after New Order and before Add N to (X). Or maybe somewhere after Devo and before A Flock of Seagulls. You wouldn't suspect either, though, if all you'd heard was "Mood Elevator," the first tune on the instrumental band's fine new self-titled debut. The track is a wistful mope-rocker that recalls more organic ambient antecedents such as Athens, Ga.'s, Love Tractor, though the driving motorik pulse of ur-Krautrockers Neu! (an obvious influence here) is never far from the surface.
Elsewhere, LU lives up to the kind of musical theory you might suspect would be behind songs called "Biometric Authentication" and "Cathartic Disintegration." The former appropriates Add N to (X)'s Casiofied synth attack for slightly mellower purposes; the latter is a four-minute slow-burner than never quite lives up to its title. "Information Police," however, does the trick. With the band building a skittering, off-kilter guitar/bass duel on top of a throbbing rhythmic foundation, the track seems like an urgent message sent in Morse code insistent and almost random-sounding, but also carefully structured. "Aquarium Furniture" is much looser and nearly jazzlike, with a descending bass line and a metronomic cymbal making sure all the guitar ambience coheres.
Best of all, however, is "Pink Sock," wherein the group serves up a percussive synth symphony complete with Devoesque man-machine rhythms and beat-box handclaps carefully syncopated to seem even more artificial. It's easily the LP's most thrilling moment, a percolating dance number that effectively puts the "new" back in New Wave. True, the track never really goes anywhere, but why would you ever want to leave? --Shannon Zimmermann
Copyright © 2004 Washington Free Weekly Inc.