While Luke Wyatt's Torn Hawk project didn't quite qualify as a member of the chill/vaporwave Class of 2010-11, his music shares much in common with them. He too is infatuated with VHS culture, infomercial soundtracks, primitive video games, bad TV cop shows and the distorting haze of memory. But while someone like James Ferraro or Oneohtrix Point Never would deploy samplers, synths, or computers to playfully deconstruct those memories, Torn Hawk’s weapon remains that other '80s artifact: the electric guitar.
Tape-chewed textures and digital glitches initially defined Wyatt’s first few releases, but there’s a remarkable clarity throughout Union and Return that belies the fact that for all the beauty of his fourth album, his inherent weirdness still squirms beneath the surface. “The Romantic” opens with a flutter of bowed cello, woodwinds, and a wordless female voice before Wyatt’s sparkling guitar and stutter-step drums come to the fore. It's anthemic, right down to the fanfare of brass and wordless choir that arises midway through, suggesting that Wyatt has cast off the trappings of his previous albums to embrace a minimal, classical sound palette. Whiffs of Meredith Monk, Glassworks, and Mark Isham abound. The sound is so clean and meticulous that it’s hard to reconcile with his fuzzier, lo-fi output.
Throughout, Wyatt’s guitar work brings to mind the legendary Manuel Göttsching, whose leads were crystalline and cosmic at once, suggesting New Age and progressive rock without settling into either camp. But the guitar here is a changeling, ringing like a bell and then dovetailing with piano, French horns, or swells of strings. One might think that Torn Hawk has evolved into a new music ensemble, but the melodic turns are so tight and precise that it’s hard to imagine them as the work of humans. Instead, Wyatt's guitar is played against a bevy of virtual instrumentation, multiple synthesizer layers stacked to dizzying heights. The drama of album highlight “With My Back to the Tower” stays just this side of bombast with its stacked brass and voices, while “Feeling is Law” continues that opulence: elegant and light on its feet. But for all of the song's brightness, darker tones seep out at the edges, casting doubt for brief moments before receding again.
It suggests a grandeur that begins to feel a bit like madness, the songs so filled with teeming details and turns that it’s easy to get lost in them. It can bring to mind car chases, the pomp of a Game of Thrones ceremony, and the music of a motivational speaker (something that Torn Hawk toys with in promo photos). Its clean fastidiousness becomes Union and Return’s weirdest attribute, akin to James Ferraro’s sleek pop polymer, Far Side Virtual. But while closer “Die Swimming in the Sea Here” retains the sonic attributes of the rest of the album, Wyatt emphasizes the gorgeous melody of the song, so straight and stirring so as to suggest end credits. How long until he moves beyond warping imaginary soundtracks and actually composing them himself?
