The Luna Moth
The Compass That Only Points East
( tlm ) 2004

Can you still use the term "instrumental rock"? It seems that in order to grasp the particular genre of music without voice, you have to adhere to this evolved mess of prefixed terminology. "Post-rock"? Who the hell created that term anyhow? Like rock itself is the caveman, and all that follows in the footsteps is 'after' it.. "AD-rock"? Hogwash! "Intelligent design" my John Scopes monkey ass.. . ...

.. . .. . . .. . I know what you're thinking.. . no, really I have no idea.

As for The Luna Moth - a 3-piece "near-instrumental" (yeah - new one) group out of the Northwest (Seattle - the term on their own website is "Drone Rock") - these guys cover quite a bit of territory on the 6-song The Compass That Only Points East. "The Sun Song" gets us on our way, a track that takes no time at all in building a swelling wall of guitar and percussion. Vocals do enter the mix mid-way, yet the manner in which they are delivered - almost a chant - in conjunction with the intensity of the song structure leads the words to become that of a fourth instrument. What follows is the 10+ minute "Sea Glass", a composition that - in contrast to the opener - exposes the slower, more gentle side of The Luna Moth. Taking her time in a steady crawl, it's not until the 7 minute mark that the track opens up for a few moments of turbulence before settling back down into an acoustic finale.

"Nervous As Hell" is where you will certainly begin to feel most comfortable on The Compass - well, maybe (nervous.. . comfy?). This offering finds the band building a soundtrack to borrowed dialogue (scanner transmission? answering machine? nope - found reel-to-reel of a message home from Vietnam!) of a man describing some partially audible story of his fears. I can make out a section where he mentions his "heart racing" and "living in Alaska" yet "trying to get to Hawaii", as the band constructs a driving rhythm of sweeps and swells with forces of paced percussion and crisp guitars. If any band is to come to mind by this time, it would be the precision of Dreamend and their unique ability to intertwine captured conversation and emotional instrumentation all while crafting a memorable anthem.

Further down the trail on "Patch Cords", we actually get to an area where the band retreats to a pattern that allows the minor addition of vocals to peek through. Crashes of cymbals and, again, pristine guitar and bass carry the listener. Traces of Gastr del Sol and Codeine [band & drug] - and the mention of them here - would serve justice in comparison. It's a bit of a lengthy journey at six songs cresting the 40 minute mark, but one I'd certainly suggest to any caveman seeking to get his grizzly hands back on the essence of rock - pre-, post- or mid-Axl Rose anything that went horribly wrong with music.

k :: (01.06.06)