#3
Black Moth Super Rainbow
Dandelion Gum
Most attempts to find points of reference for the sound of Pennsylvania collective Black Moth Super Rainbow have met with little success. One typical comparison is to Boards of Canada, but aside from some surface similarities (an affinity for warbly vintage keyboards and a vague sense of foreboding), there’s not really much in common. Air? Sure, they both use vocoder effects and the aforementioned old-school synths, but BMSR eschews that French duo’s sense of cool continental detachment in favor of something far more immediate and earthy.
In fact, Black Moth Super Rainbow’s sound is more a curious amalgam of late-60s folk-pop-psychedelia, infectiously hip-hoppy beats and electronic minimalism—all bathed in the sickly-sweet glow of childhood. Imagine drowsing off in a friend’s wood-paneled basement after one too many Pixy Stix while 1983-era PBS kids’ television shows play in the background.
That being said, it’s interesting to hear just how far the songwriting on their latest album, Dandelion Gum, has progressed from that of previous efforts, like the recently reissued Start a People and their phenomenally bizarre 2006 co-release with The Octopus Project, The House of Apples and Eyeballs. Whereas those records showcased a mastery of infectious grooves and jarring oddity, Black Moth Super Rainbow’s latest demonstrates far greater attention to texture and continuity. Furthermore, Dandelion Gum sounds a lot more alive than the previous albums, as though the band was jamming on stage rather than punching in to Pro Tools at someone’s bedroom studio.
And while band members Tobacco, Power Pill Fist, The Seven Fields of Aphelion, Father Hummingbird and Iffernaut (no joke) certainly cultivate a deep vibe on Dandelion Gum, they have also crafted songs that stand on their own merits. For instance, the delightful “Sun Lips” builds around head-bobbing drums, seedy-sounding vocoder vocals and a Mellotron flute chord progression straight out of “Strawberry Fields Forever.” Meanwhile, the instrumental “Drippy Eye” is a textbook example of tension and release, moving between a spare, ominous groove and a full-on analog synth onslaught. But what’s most unexpected is the lo-fi acoustic guitar on tracks like “Neon Syrup for the Cemetery Sisters,” which adds a spectral, woodsy backbone to their otherwise electronic sound.
For all of these reasons, Dandelion Gum stands as a truly breakthrough recording for Black Moth Super Rainbow—proving that they deserve a place alongside The Flaming Lips and Animal Collective as flag-bearers of a masterful and quintessentially American brand of musical weirdness.
