Weekly Release Spotlight: Sunset

Posted on 8/17/2008

Sunset  - The Glowing City

Sunset

The Glowing City

[Autobus]

Situated firmly between a heavenly dreamworld and a maudlin ghost town lies Bill Baird's post-Sound Team outfit Sunset. The Glowing City, their second full-length release inside the single year they've been in existence, is one expansive and gloriously swirling mess of an album (meant in the kindest way possible) that feels like it could literally connect the dusty dirt under our feet to the cloudy, starry sky that lingers for miles above our earth's tallest trees. Clocking in at just under 80 minutes but with only one track reaching past the 7-minute mark, the band's wall-of-sound spook pop moseys around at its own pace throughout the entire runtime, always acting friendly but never conforming to comfortable tempos or production values.

Earlier this year, Baird and a largely different cast of musicians quietly offered up Bright Blue Dream, which introduced their starkly different take on psychedelia with two welcome new principles: a) you don't have to sound paranoid, and b) the guitar is not the only instrument you can alter to mind-melting proportions. Not only in track count, but also in spirit and confidence of these principles, they've considerably upped the ante with The Glowing City. Playful and cherubic, Baird's baritone and off-kilter rhythms sound like they could be emanating from a band of Muppets, while the smacks of histrionic reverb and chorus are liberally applied to everything from floor toms to xylophones ("Life is Rad (Just Say Yes)"), pianos to clarinets ("Dear Friend (Falling Domino)"). While their first outing was the awakening of an individual, their new effort is now that of an entire metropolis.

Buildings, pollution, citizens, and all, the disc covers the minuscule through meditated loops ("Just a Phase") and the gargantuan through tempered sing-along anthems ("It Glows (Memory)"). This points out one of Sunset's greatest assets - no matter how many layers are slathered on top of each other, the atmosphere always feel immaculately controlled. Sure, said layers become so intertwined it's as if they are a single flesh of gorgeous melody and the tone of songs like "Zombies" and "Graveyard Dog" suggest a cartoonish impetus, but even these songs and the album's overall drowning feel originate from a clarity unfound in so much psychedelic music today. It's a place where ghosts, dreams, and reality converge into a respectful trinity. There's no need for chaos or downers on The Glowing City because enlightenment is never achieved through negativity.

Written by Chris Polley, Radio K volunteer and host of Now Like Photographs.