The name "Here We Go Magic" implies two different approaches to music making: 1) Enter into the process with little more than raw talent and a belief in serendipity; and 2) Hit record, shrug, and lazily throw stuff at the wall. Luke Temple's solo project has always split the difference frustratingly between the two. On his self-titled 2009 record, Temple seemed the epitome of the pop-song-loving basement tinkerer, recreating for his own private amusement various strains of psych-pop. It was, as a result, only fitfully involving. On last year's brighter, splashier follow-up, Pigeons, he recruited a whole band to flesh out his visions, but the project meandered through a maze of styles with the same seashell-collecting abstraction.
As a result, Here We Go Magic has been a hard project to commit to; for every moment of tingly brilliance-- say, the fluttering, slow-building epic "Collector", from Pigeons, or the mesmerizing tangle of loops and drone that was the self-titled's "Only Pieces"-- there were an equal number of momentum-squashing detours and mediocre genre experiments. The January EP, by contrast, is Temple's most cohesive release under the Here We Go Magic name. He sticks with one iteration of his kaleidoscopic command of styles: the narcotized, childlike 60s folk-pop of Syd Barrett or the Move. Every song here has a surreal shimmer and sounds slightly warped at the edges. There are no towering achievements on the level of "Collector", but The January EP is Temple's most consistently immersive listen yet.
The first track, "Tulip", is a good example of Temple's effortless command of sense, style, and sound. He croons in a narcotic falsetto over a queasily shifting backdrop of guitar pop, one that evokes SoCal psychedelia at one moment and slinky, strutting Hall & Oates funk at another. "Hands in the Sky" deploys gorgeously rippling waves of planetarium synths to flatten a puffing drum-machine and a burbling guitar, while Temple sings in a keening Pete Townshend imitation. "Hollywood" suspends acoustic finger-picking that falls like individual raindrops miles above an ominous bass groan and a dry snare shimmer. Every sound instantly arrests the ear, and Temple pins it back in place neatly once it's there with his indelible melodic sense. There are still a couple of puzzling decisions-- "Backwards Time" is such a pitch-perfect evocation of the Police that it's actually distracting-- but The January EP succeeds where the other Here We Go Magic releases have mostly failed; instead of handing you a couple of shiny baubles, it provides you with an inviting headspace to fall into.
