Luna – Romantica

 

Luna – Romantica

By

Jesse E. Mullen

 

You’ve led two successful indie groups. You’ve created “slowcore” and “dreampop” albums before either term was invented. And you’ve successfully avoided all rockstar cliches. Until now.

So was the story of Dean Wareham in 2002. His group Luna had recorded five albums of blissed out Velvet Underground-inspired dreampop. And he had just introduced a new member to the fold.

Bassist Britta Phillips had previous musical experience with the shoegazing group The Belltower. But she also had TV experience as the singing voice of Jem in the animated television series Jem and The Holograms. Her musical ability, singing voice, and star power was captivating to just about everyone. And it is safe to say that she captured Wareham’s attention.

The two quickly realized there was a mutual attraction and began a romantic relationship. There was just one problem – Wareham was married. All went well for several months. But according to Wareham’s memoir, the shit hit the fan during the recording of Luna’s next album.

A maid at the Days Inn in Fredonia, NY spilled the beans when Wareham’s then-wife called the hotel asking for her husband. The maid answered the phone and said “Oh, they just left.” Wareham, apparently not wanting to lie any further fessed up to the affair.

While this spelled an end to his marriage, it also put a damper on the whole era of material for Wareham. He has rarely expressed any interest in playing songs from the album live and rated it close to the bottom when Vice asked him to rank Luna’s albums from worst to best.

Which is a shame, because the music contained on the disk which eventually became Romantica is uniformly excellent. Released on April 23^rd, 2002 – the same day as Wilco’s Yankee Hotel Foxtrot – Luna had a lot to live up to. And by large, they did.

Opener “Lovedust” balances a cocaine metaphor with romantic intentions. Wareham sings of “A million/A billion/A trillion stars” against a jaunty chord progression and lead guitar part. The song perfectly contrasts Wareham’s classic rock-oriented playing against fellow guitarist Sean Eden’s spacy ambiance.

“Weird and Woozy” shows drummer Lee Wall reprising his part from “Tracy, I Love You” off of 1997’s Pup Tent. Wareham sings about the end of a relationship – and knowing that it is the end – and it’s hard not to read between the lines here. Still, it’s a great – albeit rarely played – track.

“Swedish Fish” and “Mermaid Eyes” recall the dreamy sounds of Lee Hazelwood’s 1960’s work. “Swedish Fish” is played as a waltz, describing a soothing train ride in a narcotic drawl. “Mermaid Eyes,” however is something special in the Luna canon. A duet between Phillips and Wareham, it predicts the work the duo would do as Dean and Britta in future years.

Here, the style is almost doo wop in execution. The band plays in a rhythm reminiscent of the mid-‘50s to early-‘60s. And Wareham and Phillips are enchanting in duet. Elsewhere, Sean Eden has two excellent co-writes with Wareham – “Black Champagne” and “Rememories.”

“Black Champagne” is a dreamy song with swirling strings and excellent “glide guitarwork” by Eden. Dave Fridmann of Mercury Rev contributed heavily to the track, adding strings, and mixing the entire album.

“Rememories,” meanwhile has excellent imagery in the lyrics. Wareham sings of Venetian blinds “slicing up the sun” and keeps a sense of mystery with its incomplete sentence chorus – “it’s been a long, long, long…”

The music is firmly rooted in the alt country genre, with spaced-out slide guitar by Eden, and jangly arpeggios by Wareham. It’s a pity that the duo remain two of the most underrated lead guitarists in the scope of independent music.

Everything wraps up with the epic title track. “Romantica” the song starts out in slow motion. A drumbeat, piano, and organ fade in at a crawl. Wareham sings of the start of a relationship with a slight sadness in his voice. Even when the chorus of “I’m in the mood for you” hits, it’s hard not to hear the melancholy.

It’s almost as if he is mourning his previous relationship, while expressing hope for his current one. As the song reaches it’s climax, Wareham lets loose a glorious finger styled guitar solo reminiscent of Mark Knopfler. It’s an album highlight that in retrospect, feels like a career peak.

I would be remiss not to mention the album artwork. It features a painting of a cigarette lighter with a palm tree printed on the side. It’s the kind of lighter that can be bought at any convenience store or gas station, yet it speaks volumes about where Wareham’s head was (possibly) at.

The palm tree, tropical image suggests peace and great happiness. Yet seeing it crudely rendered on the side of a cigarette lighter suggests a disturbance in Wareham’s peace. Given the recent circumstances surrounding his divorce, it isn’t entirely surprising.

Most modern bands are rarely able to say anything new on their fifth album. Yet with Romantica, Luna showed the world the depth of their talent. Wareham may shy away from this period of his history – and rightly so – but the music he created speaks for itself.

Jetset/2002