Sunset Rubdown
Random Spirit Lover
(Jagjaguwar, 2007)

Sunset Rubdown’s latest release, Random Spirit Lover, invokes thoughts of a dark, mystical journey undertaken by a young heroic prince. A young heroic prince that lives in a video game. The album unfolds in an epic display that is reminiscent of a Super Mario Brothers journey, when Birdo appears and spits eggs and fire at little Mario, when the princess leaps over toadstools and uncovers gold coins in a subterranean Lego. You know what I’m talking about… listen to the opening notes of the album, titled “The Mending of the Gown”, in their eerily syncopated but deliberately synthy sound. It sounds like the music that kicks in when you start a new level after defeating the sleeping dragon that guards his cave by night.

Sunset Rubdown has slowly, though the force of their own music and leader Spencer Krug’s vociferous appetite to create, risen to the top of the indie rock radar. Krug, as a member of Frog Eyes and Wolf Parade, has a signature sound that is part ‘70s-era art-rock, part brash and spastic noise rock. He is a true visionary, and the purest example of his expertise is found on the sprawling Random Spirit Lover.

Random Spirit Lover is a shining example of a concept album, a feat that, these days, seems to be not often attempted. Seamless transitions between songs lend themselves to a storybook notion, as they don’t break; instead, they melt into one another and segue in between rising crescendos and chanting vocals. When the dark, synthy sounds kick in, like in “Colt Stands Up, Grows Horns”, it’s easy to envision the hero prevailing over the sinister forces in a fabled land. It’s an album of mythical proportions—clear enough just by checking out the song names: “Magic vs. Midas”, “Stallion”, “Winged/Wicked Things”, and “The Taming of the Hands That Came Back to Life”, just to name a few.

The highlight of the album is the rising epic, “Up on Your Leopard, Upon the End of Your Feral Days”, which finds Krug crying, “You’re the one who ran in the wild / You’re the one the wild called / And you’re the one who followed the child / To save the sun from how it falls.” This song covers all the bases of a powerful composition—his lyrics are sensational, from his explosive melodramatic howl, “Say goodbye to your feral ways” to a weary, defeated whimper, “You’re the one who rides about on a leopard / You’re the one who’s throwing dead birds in the air.” Whew. And then it all collapses in a proud rhythm—it’s enough to listen to again and again. And, in fact, I do. However, the album, as a whole, is probably too conceptual, too abstract and eerie and rambling for listeners who don’t want to invest the time. It’s weirdly operatic. It takes some time to get through. The songs are heavy with incredibly striking lyricism. It’s not the kind of music that’s necessitated by much of anything, other than a thirst for something absurdly dense and sprawling. Despite its density, this album is impressive, if not all that accessible.

This is not necessarily a natural progression for Sunset Rubdown, who charmed us with their charismatic 2006 release, Shut Up I’m Dreaming, but is perhaps a move that, for now, satiates the creative Krug in his ongoing quest to compose with that rich sonic palette. It’s a thick ensemble of songs working together to complete the ambitious puzzle of Sunset Rubdown’s latest majestic vision. This is an album that may not find its place in your life too easily, as it’s a grand and somewhat uncomfortable listen. However, Sunset Rubdown prove they’re not afraid of extending themselves and should be applauded for the effort.

Listen: ”Up On Your Leopard, Upon the End of Your Feral Days” [at Jagjaguwar]