(August 2009) Lokai’s second album appears to throw everything into the intellectual pot, leaving us a taste of deliciously ordered chaos wrapped in a warm, acoustic package. Multi-dimensional flavors pull out the organic fears, whimsical idealism and stark logic that reside in every human brain.
Looming and ominous, the minor twilight-like guitar chords in “Roads,” lead to uncertain, fearful places within the modern psyche. Glassy noises, scraping, creaking and dragging sounds erratically chase down the notes, which continue to escalate in depth and intensity. Finally, minor chords give way to brighter, easier sounds, bowed strings, and calm.
Notes of gooey pancake batter bubbling and sizzling on the pan give shape to “Salvador.” Unexpected metal drum noises break the calm, zinging through the negative space like bolts of light or pops of oil. The sounds could almost lull a person into a placated stupor, except for those ruthless pings.
The sweetest dish of the album reveals itself as “Volver,” a velvety purple haze that moves like air through a humid summer evening, followed by an enchanting guitar romance. Horn-like noises and harmonicas glow and wed through the silky ease of effortless tonal backdrop.
The album reprises where it left off, but with a more refined finish. We’ve now faced our discomfort, plowed through silence. Here, having taken in the eclectic elixir of life, we are ready to face the unknown. We’re not in Kansas anymore, or maybe, we’re so deep in Kansas that there is nothing else around but the line that defines our sanity.
Transition is out now on Thrill Jockey. [Purchase / Listen
]
