The War on Drugs
Lost in the Dream
Sometimes they do make them like they used to. The film Drive owed a great deal to 80’s touchstones like Miami Vice (and anything else from Michael Mann), To Live and Die in L.A., and what would on the surface be an unlikely source, Risky Business. What all of these have in common is they found the excitement in stillness, and tension in tranquility. Each contains music which emits that kind of ambience. The War on Drugs would’ve fit perfectly on any of those soundtracks.
Coincidentally, 2011’s Slave Ambient, the second album from the Philadelphia band, came out around the same time as Drive. Actually, they’re not really a band so much as a collective masterminded by guitarist-singer-songwriter Adam Granduciel. Slave Ambient connected incongruent influences such as The Replacements, The Verve, Tom Petty, Paul Simon and the experimental German acts of the 70’s like Kraftwerk. One of the many highlights from the album is the moment in “Your Love Is Calling My Name,” when the “Rebel Yell” drums hit like a Tyson uppercut and the celebratory “Born in the U.S.A.” keyboards become more prominent. It’s ideal music for speeding through a tunnel with the top down.
Lost in the Dream, the latest from Granduciel and company, is more than just an album title, it’s a mission statement, featuring even more atmospheric excursions with rootsy folk underpinnings.
“Under the Pressure” presents an alternate universe where Bryan Ferry left Roxy Music before recording Avalon, and was replaced by Bob Dylan. Essentially, you’ve got Infidels-era Dylan mixed with the sonic splendor of “More Than This,” particularly with Granduciel’s Phil Manzaneraesque guitar colorings throughout. The last line of the song, “Just trying not to crack under the pressure” is followed by a few minutes of the droning sounds of synths entwined with guitar feedback. This section concurrently captures the anger and melancholy of someone attempting not to drown in stress, while being hypnotic and oddly relaxing.
“Red Eyes” is more upbeat, really coming alive when Granduciel lets out a rockabilly “whoop” right out of Springsteen’s Nebraska. Seniors graduating high school in a few month’s should be dancing around bonfires to this.
“Suffering” is a mid-tempo ballad, the kind of song you put on while laying on the hood of your car at night, looking up at the stars. It’s even got a guitar solo right out of 70’s Santana.
In fact, there’s more guitar than on their previous records. “Disappearing” opens with such lyrical guitar work it would seem Granduciel might have a hankering to be Tom Petty and Mike Campbell. The song already has a glowing beauty to it, when midway through, a poignant piano melody takes it to a whole other level of exquisiteness. And that’s on top of a rhythm fit for dance floors everywhere. It’s a perfect example of what makes The War on Drugs stand out. They have a gift for making introspective music that also grooves. And as a bonus, how many ambient dance tunes feature a brief harmonica solo?
“An Ocean in Between the Waves” has fluttering guitars that live up to the title. And “Burning” starts with the feel of someone suffering through a sleepless night, the keyboards lightly flickering like the colon between the numbers on a digital clock. After about a minute, the drums suddenly come to life, with bouncy synths similar to the melody of Rod Stewart’s 1981 hit “Young Turks,” which was Rod’s raise of the pint to Dire Straits. It’s got a triumphant-sounding, sunny afternoon, sing-along chorus reminiscent of another band from Philly (and the 80’s), The Hooters.
War may be part of the band’s name, but don’t let that fool you. Every now and then, there’s more tension in the calm before the storm, than the storm itself.
Originally published as an edited version by DAEP Media.