La Luz
Weirdo Shrine (Hardly Art)
La Luz is Spanish for “The Light”, which makes a lot of sense, given the sunny radiance of the band’s particular brand of shimmering psych-surf. Formed in 2012 in Seattle, La Luz already have a full-length and an EP under their belts, and with Weirdo Shrine, the band takes a slightly darker turn for their sophomore LP.
Appropriately, the album was recorded in a San Dimas, California, surf shop (for real), with LA lo-fi legend Ty Segall at the controls. The production is typically reverb-drenched and decidedly lo-fi, with the requisite distant guitars and ethereal vocals layered over an omnipresent tape hiss and amplifier buzz. Owing as much to fellow Puget Sounders The Ventures as contemporaries like Best Coast, La Luz craft surf rock at its most atmospheric, forgoing the bubble gum pop in favour of something a little darker, a little more contemplative. This is still beach music, but the sun is setting.
The album opens with the meditative “Sleep Till They Die”, and gathers steam behind Shana Cleveland’s creepy guitarwork. Marian Li Pino’s frantic, ride-heavy drumming pushes up-tempo instrumental number "Hey Papi", while “Black Hole, Weirdo Shrine” sees the band ditch the surfboards for saddlehorses, sounding like Huevos Rancheros on a LOT of drugs.
As the album comes to a close, it’s clear the party’s over, the sun is rising, and the barren coastal stretches of Highway 101 are yours and yours alone.
Rating: 3.5/5
