Moon Panda’s artistry is anything but “Dumb Luck”: Album Review
Like a spritz of perfume, the opening notes on Moon Panda’s new record, “Dumb Luck,” draw you into a sweet spell. While the sparkly synths, twinkling guitars, and Maddy Myer’s intoxicating voice have become iconographic to Moon Panda’s sound, on this new record, they seem to have improved every other component. From the arrangements to the composition to the lyricism, “Dumb Luck” demonstrates a maturing band that is exploring their sound rather than just getting comfortable in it.
LISTEN TO “DUMB LUCK” BY CLICKING BELOW
The group’s previous record,“Sing Spaceship, Sing!” was chock-full of space-y jams, interstellar interludes, and tight songwriting that showcased the group’s exceptional musicianship and their aesthetic ‘savoir-faire.’ While that record was incredible at manufacturing a distinct personality and a unique timbre, “Dumb Luck” imbues that previously established sound with a strongly identifiable ethos and sense of narrative. Much of that is accomplished through the tighter song structures and the evolution in lyricism.
The record opens with “Lost World,” a cool pop tune that would border on ballad if it weren’t driven by its sweet beat and flowery synth flourishes. Unlike the laid-back, “no sweat, no worries” lyricism that defined the previous record, “Lost World” sets up tension early with introspective lyrics in its foreboding chorus: “Oh my god I feel it in the air tonight / Like my world is changing and I can’t avoid it / I feel like I never knew you anyhow / Now I write living in a lost world.”
The following track, “Penny,” perpetuates the tension, teleporting the listener into a crowded dance floor, locking eyes with a beautiful woman named Penny. Myer’s vocal performance is imbued with a seductive quality that mimics the lustful eyes of the narrator in the chorus: “Penny, why do you always hit me with the right hook / and the long look / You’ve got eyes like a dagger.” As soon as the first chorus ends, the music dives into a disco-inspired groove, defined by a ‘boogie nights’ bass line that immediately recalls the Bee-Gees. This track is a perfect blend of style, substance, and performance molding into one; every component of the song is complementing the other.
“Fantasy” is sonically reminiscent of the space-inspired escapism of their previous record, with its jazzy chord progressions and musical inflections; this time, however, the lyrics are comfortably nestled on Earth within a pastoral setting evoking sunny days sitting under the shade of an oak tree. Myer’s vocal harmonies are as sweet as the cakes and custards of a “Redwall” novel, and the end of the song drifts off into one of the band’s signature ethereal odysseys.
On “Butterknife” the lyrics are pining, swimming back in from the depths of fantasy and onto the shores of reality. “Was it another life / Was it another dream / Where I got the butter knife / You got the whole armory / why would you go and act like / I haven’t proved my love again and again.” The groove is still funky and jam-like, but there’s an edge accentuated by the crisp high-hat and sharpness of the snare that betrays the laid-back aloofness of the guitar riffs. This is followed by “Avalanche,” characterized by wispy vocals, subdued harmonies, and twiddling guitars reminiscent of Clairo’s “Charm” or “Equus Asinus” by Men I Trust.
The second half of the album keeps up this back and forth between fantasy and reality, with “Space Elevator” sounding like a sassy, psychedelic medley in the style of Tame Impala, and “Superstore” another introspective, narratively insecure reflection on a relationship. Things really start to sound different with the second to last track, “The Light.” A tear-inducing ballad, this is the slowest song of the record, almost resembling a lullaby. Halfway through, the song kicks into third gear, devolving into a jam that sounds like Khruangbin, but with much more interesting licks, progressions and inflections.
The album wraps up with “Loveflow,” a cathartic outro with an evocative chorus: “Keep me in your head / thank you for all of it.” A very appropriate closing chorus, given how aesthetically consistent the record is (and able to stick to the inside of your skull). At 31 minutes, “Dumb Luck” is so effective at creating a particular mood that it almost feels too short and demands to be replayed. Although the lyrical material is still not exceptionally cerebral nor high-concept, it demonstrates a significant evolution in the band’s compositional potential, which is also reflected in the music. “Dumb Luck” is Moon Panda’s best album yet, demonstrating their potential to grow and building anticipation for what new ideas they’ll come up with next.
