This third album from the duo of James Schimpl and Ellis Swan features some of their most sublime work to date, as it feels like the soundtrack to a desolate & dreamlike roadtrip across an America where it is eternally 3am. Stylistically, it sounds like Dead Bandit have distilled the best bits of cinematic post-rock, noir jazz, dub, shoegaze, and surf guitar into an elegantly bleary and oft-gorgeous series of late-night mood pieces. In keeping with that theme, the album’s arc mirrors that of an overnight drive, as the vibe gradually moves from haunted and impressionistic evocations of lonely highways and lurid neon lights towards the faint light of a bruised & beautiful sunrise.
Characteristically, I tend to find the darker pieces more alluring, but even the lesser pieces meander along in a pleasant fashion before unleashing some kind of wonderfully hallucinatory guitar trick or other inspired motif (i.e. the wounded, blearily howling solo in “Up To Your Waist” or the heaving & shuddering flanged ambiance of “Amer Picon”). The strongest piece is arguably “Glass,” as its slow, sensuous bass throb and vibrato-soaked guitar make it a lock as my go-to choice if I ever find myself DJing a strip club in Twin Peaks. Elsewhere, the bass-driven “Pink” features both a killer hollow-sounding guitar motif and a propulsive groove that feels like a depressive take on “Billie Jean.” On the more ambient side, the rippling, feedback-soaked dreamscape of “Milk” is yet another sublime stunner. If the album has a weakness, it is only that it sometimes feels more like a collection of great moments than a collection of great songs, but it is damn near impossible to imagine any room for improvement when Dead Bandit strike a perfect balance of dubby, bass-heavy grooves and shoegaze-damaged guitar wizardry.
