The Universe Inside Review: The Dream Syndicate pull off a work of improvised psychedelia and avantgarde majesty
When the iconic alternative psy-rock band The Dream Syndicate first emerged on the 1980s LA scene in the wake of the Paisley Underground explosion, their celebrated frontman, Steve Wynn, declared that they were "playing music we want to hear because nobody else is doing it.”
He also added, “I’ll compromise on what I eat or where I sleep, but I won’t compromise on what music I play.” That purist attitude has seen the band outlast multiple lineup changes, spawn a plethora of musical imitators, and release 7 studio albums thus far, albeit after reuniting in 2012 after a 23-year hiatus.
And on April 10, they will release their highly-anticipated eighth studio full-length, 'The Universe Inside', making it their fourth offering from the Anti Records stable.
Originally described as a mix of Velvet Underground meets Crazy Horse, no sonic territory is deemed off-limits or too far-fetched for the band. Steve Wynn is a noted guitar improviser, and his current crop of talented bandmates, drummer Dennis Duck, bassist Mark Walton, keyboardist Chris Cacavas, and lead guitarist Jason Victor are perfectly capable of keeping up with him in his experimental, psychedelic jaunts.
And for the first time in Dream Syndicate history, every track became a group songwriting effort. Even more notably, this record is practically a live album - the band was working out ideas in a studio when their friend Stephen McCarthy dropped by and became a catalyst for an uncharted sonic exploration.
In one session, they actually recorded 80 continuous minutes of soundscapes. Steve Wynn said, "All we added was air" which means aside from Wynn's vocals, some brass and a touch of percussion – every live instrument track emerged intact. The resulting album, 'The Universe Inside' is an unparalleled sensory odyssey, exploring the worlds of European avant-garde music, '70s prog rock, Southern-fried music collectives, vintage electric jazz and plenty of maniacal sound manipulation.
Opening track 'The Revelator' is a sprawling 20-minute experimental jam, described as a “psychedelic journey through New York City, equal parts panoramic, psychedelic, somnambulistic and political.”
Kicked off by a droning electric sitar, it is laden with groovy bass, twinkling synths, fuzzy guitars, and squalling brass instruments, all propelled by an unrelenting drumbeat. "Have you heard?" Wynn's gravelly voice enquires at the three-minute mark.
"The scarcity of the soul / Blown fuses / For the regulator / Songs and sounds that soothe the savage soul." It's both hypnotic and otherworldly, catapulting the listener on an introspective journey towards the Sun amid the washes of instruments that pan in and out of the mix.
There's an epic saxophone solo at the nine-minute mark that Ornette Coleman would have been proud of. The "Have you heard?" refrain later returns as a higher-pitched squawk, as the diverse instruments ebb and flow majestically with vocal harmonies towards the song's cinematic conclusion.
'The Longing' introduces lingering, shimmering guitars as the shamans who guide us into a moodier headspace, with the help of the other instruments that rumble alongside in support.
Wynn earnestly declares, "All that's left now from before / The final twitch and spasm / Like it happened moments ago / Distant across the chasm... You felt invincible / Like anything was possible / Now all that's left is the longing." It's a spacey, echo and delay-drenched track full of wistful yearning, both smooth and desperate.
'Apropos of Nothing' sounds like an experimental musique concrète affair with shades of 1970s modal jazz - "What were you expecting / What did you recall / Apropos of nothing / Chain reaction before the fall" drawls Wynn over a syncopated rhythm that drives the heady synths and blooming guitars over swirling, heavily-sampled soundscapes.
The song picks up pace around the seven-minute mark, as the band join forces and march towards a towering crescendo, culminating in a harmonica epilogue.
'Dusting Off The Rust' is The Dream Syndicate's instrumental take on '70s German prog-rock, with brass and synths waxing eloquent over a rat-a-tat machine gun percussion. Amidst the romping, freewheeling jam, we can also hear elements of British fusion bands like Soft Machine, courtesy of Marcus Tenney’s virtuoso sax and trumpet playing.
Also guest-starring on this song is percussionist Johnny Hott, from the revered '80s duo House of Freaks, and the resulting aural splendor lasts for close to 10 minutes.
The closing track, 'The Slowest Rendition', evokes impressions of the cult '70s band Roxy Music as fronted by David Bowie - it's a two-part epic about the deterioration and rebuilding of the mind, based on Wynn's shocked response to a close friend suffering a stroke. "I am the derelict conductor / Of the broken symphony / I'm the amateur director / On a badly lit mystery / Keep moving the pieces / Keep shuffling the deck / Keep singing the chorus / Of the slowest rendition."
It shambles along deliberately, both swooping and deliciously lounge-worthy, with pulses of rhythm and brass pushing through the delicate textures created by the synths and guitars.
All in all, both the immense scale and scope of this multi-hued record are truly astounding - it's moody, experimental, progressive, and intense. The resulting album sounds like technicolor lightning in a bottle and the trippy artwork only adds to the surreal reverie of the immersive listening experience.