Prolific alternative country, freak-folk, indie-rock troubadour Daniel Romano followed a path of heavenly inspiration tread by many, but conquered by few. He looked up into the night sky and pondered life's divine questions: the meaning of it all, the number 42, everything. The resulting jolt of productivity resulted not only in a sprawling rock opera titled La Luna, but a subsequent feature film (as yet unreleased by the time this review was written).
As magnificent and plentiful as they are, the stars are so far away that many of the flaming gas balls burned out millions of years ago, their remaining light merely a ripple across a lake from a rock that sank long ago. Ever present and usually obvious, the moon is a far less abstract concept. We can see it clearly. We can even touch it, and have done so many times. We know its truths with certainty, even if it still contains secrets.
One widely-accepted theory is that there used to exist two sister planets, but they collided early in proto-Earth's history, and a mass broke away during the incident that became the moon. Regardless of how it came to be in our planet's orbit, the moon certainly has a powerful influence over the oceans. Its gravitational pull is largely responsible for the tides, and many believe it has a similar effect on people, that the crazies come out when we perceive the moon as being full.
Though widely known as a synonym for insanity, the term "lunatic" literally means "of the moon" or "moonstruck." The prevailing wisdom of the time was that certain neurological and mental disorders like epilepsy and insanity were actually caused by the moon. This is the kind of thinking that brings us to La Luna, the approximately ten-billionth album released by Romano and his outfit of like-minded celestial travellers since the beginning of the pandemic.
La Luna is a single song presented in two parts, with twelve sub-sections. Romano wrote the music and libretto himself, his madness enabled by his far-out collective of alleged cultists known as the Outfit. Roddy Holiday, Julianna Riolino, David Nardi, Ian Romano, Carson McHone, Kenneth Roy Meehan, Mark Lalama, Raha Javanfar, Aaron Hutchinson, and Kristian Montano helped Romano realize his grand vision at Camera Varda studios in Welland, Ontario. Camera Varda was built before the recording of their 2021 effort Cobra Poems, and they sound fully at home in the space on La Luna.
If you're looking for two-minute blasts of obnoxiously sugary hooks to slap in the background at work, La Luna ain't it. This baby demands your undivided attention. This is a profoundly epic rock opera that would make Andrew Lloyd Webber reexamine his life. The lyrics are written as poetry, with the through-composed music a continual stream of orchestral indie-pop, framed by an overture and a grand finale. It is a sacrament, a ceremonial relic, the kind of experience to plan an acid trip around.
The first part of the rustic yet textured opus begins with reversed chants and bird song, leading to strings, piano, and brass with drums and bass guitar. The progression evolves, becoming more elaborate and grandiose for six minutes until a graceful reprieve lands the listener back with the birds, lightly plucked acoustic guitar, and lucid words finally break free. That's when these musical drugs kick in. Kicking in around the 12-minute mark with the refrain "Tender fruit / In the groves of war," section III of part one could be something dreamt by the Allman Brothers or Jethro Tull with its organ-heavy, funky prog-rock half-blending into a country waltz. It only lasts for about a minute, but the moment shines brightly and feels larger.
Section VII at the beginning of part two contains devastatingly beautiful lyrics that seemingly reflect the generational decay in which the world seems to be drowning: "There is not an image worth repeating / All that ever is will be defiled / There is not a memory for your meaning / The master kills the wisdom of the child / The master kills the wisdom of the child."
These are the kinds of thoughts that linger long after the music has finished. The album is full of lines like that, and every experience brings more of them to the surface. La Luna is a lot to absorb in a single session, even with devoted attention.
With its stream-of-consciousness, neo-hippy lyricism and adventurous indie freak-folk style, the sound and feeling brings to mind Finally Free, one of several albums Romano put out in 2018. The lyrics for Finally Free came to him on a road-trip across the prairies, the album flowing through him as if it was composed by someone else. Listening to tracks like "Have You Arrival"; indicated the path that he would someday explore in even greater detail upon gazing at that big pizza pie in the sky years later.
La Luna brings to mind the Electric Prunes when they were produced by David Axelrod with a bit of Art d'Ecco's neo-glam and Ghostkeeper's campfire surrealism, or perhaps if Fairport Convention had produced Sloan's Between the Bridges. Given the scope and vision of this piece, Daniel Romano and his Outfit appear to be no longer content with creating music. This could be the first step toward global domination, for this superstar's dreamcoat is in high definition.
(You've Changed Records)As magnificent and plentiful as they are, the stars are so far away that many of the flaming gas balls burned out millions of years ago, their remaining light merely a ripple across a lake from a rock that sank long ago. Ever present and usually obvious, the moon is a far less abstract concept. We can see it clearly. We can even touch it, and have done so many times. We know its truths with certainty, even if it still contains secrets.
One widely-accepted theory is that there used to exist two sister planets, but they collided early in proto-Earth's history, and a mass broke away during the incident that became the moon. Regardless of how it came to be in our planet's orbit, the moon certainly has a powerful influence over the oceans. Its gravitational pull is largely responsible for the tides, and many believe it has a similar effect on people, that the crazies come out when we perceive the moon as being full.
Though widely known as a synonym for insanity, the term "lunatic" literally means "of the moon" or "moonstruck." The prevailing wisdom of the time was that certain neurological and mental disorders like epilepsy and insanity were actually caused by the moon. This is the kind of thinking that brings us to La Luna, the approximately ten-billionth album released by Romano and his outfit of like-minded celestial travellers since the beginning of the pandemic.
La Luna is a single song presented in two parts, with twelve sub-sections. Romano wrote the music and libretto himself, his madness enabled by his far-out collective of alleged cultists known as the Outfit. Roddy Holiday, Julianna Riolino, David Nardi, Ian Romano, Carson McHone, Kenneth Roy Meehan, Mark Lalama, Raha Javanfar, Aaron Hutchinson, and Kristian Montano helped Romano realize his grand vision at Camera Varda studios in Welland, Ontario. Camera Varda was built before the recording of their 2021 effort Cobra Poems, and they sound fully at home in the space on La Luna.
If you're looking for two-minute blasts of obnoxiously sugary hooks to slap in the background at work, La Luna ain't it. This baby demands your undivided attention. This is a profoundly epic rock opera that would make Andrew Lloyd Webber reexamine his life. The lyrics are written as poetry, with the through-composed music a continual stream of orchestral indie-pop, framed by an overture and a grand finale. It is a sacrament, a ceremonial relic, the kind of experience to plan an acid trip around.
The first part of the rustic yet textured opus begins with reversed chants and bird song, leading to strings, piano, and brass with drums and bass guitar. The progression evolves, becoming more elaborate and grandiose for six minutes until a graceful reprieve lands the listener back with the birds, lightly plucked acoustic guitar, and lucid words finally break free. That's when these musical drugs kick in. Kicking in around the 12-minute mark with the refrain "Tender fruit / In the groves of war," section III of part one could be something dreamt by the Allman Brothers or Jethro Tull with its organ-heavy, funky prog-rock half-blending into a country waltz. It only lasts for about a minute, but the moment shines brightly and feels larger.
Section VII at the beginning of part two contains devastatingly beautiful lyrics that seemingly reflect the generational decay in which the world seems to be drowning: "There is not an image worth repeating / All that ever is will be defiled / There is not a memory for your meaning / The master kills the wisdom of the child / The master kills the wisdom of the child."
These are the kinds of thoughts that linger long after the music has finished. The album is full of lines like that, and every experience brings more of them to the surface. La Luna is a lot to absorb in a single session, even with devoted attention.
With its stream-of-consciousness, neo-hippy lyricism and adventurous indie freak-folk style, the sound and feeling brings to mind Finally Free, one of several albums Romano put out in 2018. The lyrics for Finally Free came to him on a road-trip across the prairies, the album flowing through him as if it was composed by someone else. Listening to tracks like "Have You Arrival"; indicated the path that he would someday explore in even greater detail upon gazing at that big pizza pie in the sky years later.
La Luna brings to mind the Electric Prunes when they were produced by David Axelrod with a bit of Art d'Ecco's neo-glam and Ghostkeeper's campfire surrealism, or perhaps if Fairport Convention had produced Sloan's Between the Bridges. Given the scope and vision of this piece, Daniel Romano and his Outfit appear to be no longer content with creating music. This could be the first step toward global domination, for this superstar's dreamcoat is in high definition.