Like moonlight on a starless night, The Silent Years project across a crisp, endless expanse both starkly beautiful and with a rich, engaging brightness. The Detroit quintet indulge plenty of textured atmospheres but aren't as shambolic as their dream-pop antecedents. Keyboards paint in broad shimmering strokes, and frontman Josh Epstein's tenor dances agilely over the spectral arrangements, but the light, drifting psych-warmth is often punctuated with crashes of guitar like meteors incinerating in our ionosphere. The mix of delicacy and muscle is alluring, suggesting Spacemen 3 on the right meds. They calibrate the balance on last year's The Globe, choosing a broad thematic universe and its resilience, colored in wide-canvas galactic tones that settle over the ringing melodies like twilight traversing into night. Graceful without being toothless, they're one of the best acts to emerge of late.
Recommended For YouPowered by SailThru
If you like this story, consider signing up for our email newsletters.
SHOW ME HOW
You have successfully signed up for your selected newsletter(s) - please keep an eye on your mailbox, we're movin' in!