(This is Meru, released Fri 11 May 2017)
Son Lux are traceable back to the alternative hip hop primordial soup that spawned the careers of Yoni Wolf (cLOUDDEAD, WHY?), Doseone, and other key figures with ties to the Anticon label collective. Arguably, Son Lux are musically the most ambitious of the bunch, having one foot planted firmly in hip hop, another in post rock’s poptimist camp, and an inexplicable third foot in stage music’s spirited over-emoting, informing some of vocalist and composer Ryan Lott’s diet Jacques Brel gravitas. Son Lux return with their fifth EP Remedy, the proceeds of which will be donated to the Southern Poverty Law Center.
The latest EP finds Son Lux exploring familiar musical ground, with the frantic insecurity of post-Kid A Radiohead and more than a healthy dose of Will Wiesenfeld’s whimpering vocal and sopping wet pessimism. The project is no stranger to ominous despair, ultimately sounding like all Lott needs is a warm shower and a quiet evening in a fluffy dressing gown. But underneath the drama this time around is the hint of genuine fear. It’s not for nothing that the EP’s press release begins with a quote from novelist and photographer Teju Cole on the banality of evil – the uneasy assimilation of darkness into everyday life.
Complicity is achieved with the wilful ignorance of the many, as Lott’s deathly croon illustrates on Part of This: “I don’t want to be a part of it / I don’t want to share the blame / I don’t want to know the body count / I don’t want to see my face on this.” Lott’s vocals seem to literally do battle with the exacting yet frenetic thrashing of Rafiq Bhatia and Ian Chang’s instrumentation. Lott sounds victorious on the lines “I don’t wanna have to fight you anymore / but I will,” but perhaps the listener is yet to be convinced. Opener Dangerous’ restless octave bass invokes deteriorating cities, as raised fingers point at truth-massaging tyrants (“Are you dangerous / with your measure of proof?”). Lightning strings somehow come off as deeply mournful, as they follow Lott’s too-close-for-comfort vocal delivery, like a ghostly presence brushing the back of the neck: “Rest assured / the dead are all believers / rest assured / we are all believers”. If Lott’s timely takedown of FAKE NEWS is a little too on-the-nose, this whirlwind musical statement more than makes up for it.
For an EP that frequently mimics the sound of computer glitches and short circuiting drum machines, Remedy sounds remarkably organic, like music created by past-future machinery. This is common among recent releases – Radiohead’s recent LP does the same with great aplomb, but Son Lux have achieved sonic textures of rivalling quality. Stolen follows a beat recalling the click-clacking of a haunted typewriter, thickened with prancing thumb piano samples and a subtly rasping horn that sounds like some great snoring beast. The self-titled track, a real highlight, follows a similar format, with a locked groove rhythm setting up its unconventional backbeat. The thumb pianos return, but no semblance of rhythmic order is apparent until Lott’s vocal emerges, singing “to form a melody” and “to find a remedy” backed by a bona fide crowd-sourced choir, like a folk refrain for a post-apocalyptic society rebuilding civilisation amid industrial ruins.
After an EP full of hideousness and hopelessness, the ugliest lies and an alarming high body count, Son Lux actually begin to sound hopeful by the end. But is it already too late for hope? The message is left brutally open-ended, as the EP’s final track ends with a militaristic drumroll building like a quickening heartbeat before abruptly cutting off, like a universe wiped out in the blink of an eye.