The full-spirited, five-piece psych/dream pop band has recently found a strong hold on live shows across New York. In headlining Baby's All Right and Elsewhere this past winter, the band has placed itself alongside rising groups in the city like Blood Sports, Anastasia Coope, and Crate.
As a live band, Starcleaner Reunion excels in arranging their surreal tracks across all five members. Guitarists Pat Drummond and Neil Torman exchange lead moments of thrashing psychedelic melodies where both utilize heavy tonal manipulation to a tee. Lead singer, synth, and excellent tambourine player Jo Roman drives the spirit of the songs forward with her bright, welcoming presence and awe-inducing vocals. Bassist Adam Kenter hoists up the high-flying songs with steady bass lines that contribute head-nodding oomph to all of the band's arrangements.
The band's most recent of three EPs, "Café Life", marked a heightened cohesion around the group's cosmically-explorative type of sound. With mixing help from Model/Actriz member Ruben Radlauer the EP brought together different creative elements with a sense of play and open-mindedness — sprinkled in the depths of the 4-track project you'll find samples of thunderstorms and faintly whispered poetry readings. On a larger level, the band's noisy psych-rock took on razor-sharp precision in rhythm and structure, giving the entire project a seasoned, finely-crafted sound. As a listener, Café Life amasses excitement in how psychedelic music can take meaningful form in today's music. The group is not straining to reach the places of abstract artistry they live in — rather it manifests from the experienced talent and connectedness they share.
Not every moment lands with equal weight. "Carousel Drive" reaches for a grander dynamic than the album's atmosphere can quite sustain, and its bridge feels borrowed from a different, louder record. But these are minor frictions in something otherwise remarkably cohesive. Starcleaner Reunion have made an album that knows exactly what it is — and has the patience to let you find out for yourself.
The record closes on "Winter Kept Us," a song so still it barely seems to breathe. Park's voice drops to a near-whisper over a single sustained chord, and then it's over. No resolution. No grand finish. Just silence where the music used to be — which, it turns out, is exactly the right ending for an album that understands the power of what's left unsaid.
