Review Summary: The stars came tumbling down
So much is missed and looked over due to the tunnel vision created by politics, social media, algorithms, silos of misinformation, and perpetual distraction. I would hope this could be an album that sounds like sitting on the roof of a car, when being young was serious and one night was like the end of the world. -Marc Byrd
When was the last time you walked outside at night, looked up into the sky, and just lost yourself in the majesty of the universe? I know it sounds a bit sentimental and perhaps even overwrought, but there is something to the above passage that immediately struck a chord within me. I’m always thinking about the final time I’ll hear any given piece of music, and chances are, there’s plenty that I’ve already heard for the last time. Now, extrapolate that idea and apply it to your entire life. Maybe that old friend you always assumed you’d catch up with some day…you simply won’t. We’re all impermanent beings in the unforgiving march of time, and it’s important - nay, crucial - that we figuratively (or literally) stop to smell the roses. Now is the time to slow down, look around us, and take it all in. Any given minute could be our last chance to do so.
The Second Coming Was a Moonrise makes me feel like all the most beautiful things in life are converging upon a single moment, and maybe that’s why I’m so enamored with it. It’s a reminder to exhale and experience life the way it was meant to experienced - not from between glances at a phone screen, but genuine, in-the-present interactions with each other and nature. It’s the sonic equivalent to Byrd’s quote - this album evokes a sense of gorgeous isolation and grand purpose. There’s an aching bareness to each drum beat, but also eternal hope that emanates from its starbound synths. Pianos ring out with pristine clarity, as if echoing from an abandoned chapel. There’s most assuredly a comparison to Sigur Ros to be made, but more importantly, Hammock have transcended their typically pretty formula and tapped into something truly spiritual here. It feels like they’ve ascended to a higher calling, and
The Second Coming sounds the part. It’s utterly breathtaking.
Appropriately, there isn’t a wasted second within this album’s pursuit of meaning in all things. Every track carefully sets the scene to the point that you can practically reach out and touch your surroundings, and then gradually adds stunning accents until the whole thing erupts in cathartic splendor. ‘Inbreaking’ floats in on a cloud of reverb as drums slowly roll in, like distant clashes of thunder, until the whole song levitates. The layered, shimmering vocals on ‘Like Sinking Stars’ is akin to looking out upon a pure, snow-covered landscape. When I listen to the epic seven and a half minute title track, replete with its gorgeous ambiance and massive crescendos, I feel like I’m speeding down the highway on a warm summer night, windows rolled down. With the wind blowing through my hair, all of my dreams feel within reach…just for a moment. The melodic guitars of ‘The Unsetting Sun’ - ever-glowing in their soft, inviting warmth - remind me of flowers blooming from the earth in color combinations so gorgeous that it makes you wonder if anything so perfect could possibly exist elsewhere in this vast universe of ours. When The Flaming Lips join in on the completely ethereal ‘Chemicals Make You Small’, the subtle strings intertwining with their radiant voices make me feel as though I’m that tree on that brilliant album artwork - slowly getting beamed up to the heavens by some mysterious force.
There really isn’t a singular adjective to encapsulate the exquisite, sweeping beauty of
The Second Coming Was a Moonrise. It’s more like a series of awe-inspiring moments, all linked together by the album’s overarching atmosphere. Its beauty unfurls slowly and in waves, like gazing into the infinite night sky and gradually coming to terms with your insignificance. Don't get me wrong - Hammock have always made aesthetically pleasing music - but
The Second Coming Was a Moonrise feels like they’re taking everything they’ve ever done well and executing it all to perfection. There’s a level of sophistication and sprawling, adventurous musicianship that feels unparalleled in modern ambient, post-rock, neoclassical, and dream pop circles. It’s certainly my favorite Hammock record to date - if not their actual best outright - and within all of its dazzling progressions and picturesque backdrops exists a stark reminder to seek beauty in each and every precious moment that we have left.
Spend the hours waiting
For your simple life to change
Future is a metaphor
For a past prearranged
All the lies they told you
Dead leaves on the ground
One day you’ll disappear
An echo to the sound
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