Moon Duo don't exactly make music one would categorize as outdoorsy. For Sanae Yamada and Wooden Shjips axe-grinder Erik "Ripley" Johnson, their compellingly crafted brand of chemically treated krautrocking has felt positively subterranean, taking tried-and-true pop song templates and blasting them to smithereens with looping doses of gleefully woolly droning and guitar noise. Their previous LP, Mazes, made sure not to let too much light in, but also made plenty of accessible strides that suggested the pair wasn't only interested in being another black-light band. So it's with their follow-up, Circles, that Moon Duo seem anxious to bolster their sound while still remaining sinister, groovy, and totally far-and-fuzzed-out. Circles is a reference to Ralph Waldo Emerson's essay of the same name, which, among other things, explores the idea of the titular shape's prominence in nature. With much of the album's conception taking place in Colorado's Rocky Mountains, there is a crisp lightheadedness that pervades much of the music here, thanks in part to its layered, rhythmically indulgent production. It's an uncharacteristically varied, psych-y noise-pop record that just plain sounds and feels great.
If there is a whiff of Gaia's presence anywhere on Circles, it's somewhere in album opener and lead single "Sleepwalker", which would otherwise sound like a regular Moon Duo track-- its shimmering, steely buzz still firmly intact-- except that the choruses ("I can see you," Yamada and Johnson croon together) feel practically star-bursted. You might think they took the transcendental thing to heart, if it weren't for the following three cuts, which account for what may be the best material of Moon Duo's career. While the repeated refrain of "I Can See" may seem exultant, what's presented instead is a foreboding amalgamation of 60s bubblegum pop and dread, like music made by a go-go booted Grim Reaper. "When You Cut", the best track from 2011's Mazes, alluded to Moon Duo's interest in becoming some sort of deranged dance band, and with this suite of songs, they pull it off in a variety of truly delectable ways. "Circles" is the most footloose thing the band has offered yet, surprsingly sunny, with Johnson actually pulling off solos that only your pleated-khaki'd, Chuck Berry-worshipping uncle would dare noodle out. In some parallel universe, Vincent and Mia could have won an even bigger trophy thanks to it. "I Been Gone" is oppositely desert-parched but no less urgent, like the soundtrack to a lost motorcycle diary. These songs pack a considerable wallop, which actually isn't much of a feat for Moon Duo. What is surprising is how thrillingly lucid they are.
It's a tough little cluster to follow, for sure, and while the back half of Circles offers its share of surprises (check out the pedal-heavy moonshiner jam "Free Action"), Yamada and Johnson do feel it necessary to explore the further reaches of their established sound, playing with the same grimy, lock-step formula they're so fond of. But as if part of some winking in-joke, there's the one-two punch of "Sparks" and "Dance Pt. 3", both of which boast virtually the same chord progression at nearly the exact same speed. It's either a humorous nod to the fact that, yeah, Moon Duo can get a little monotonous, or simply a sativa-induced oversight. It's kind of endearing either way. But despite the fact that "Sparks" has an almost mystical, campfire-lit vibe to it and "Dance Pt. 3" passes for above average, early Black Rebel Motorcycle Club, both songs block off a crucial chunk of space that could've used a more dynamic pair of songs, and kept the record's exciting sequencing in tact.
As a testament to just how fun Circles really is, though, it's a pretty forgivable hiccup, seeing as the songs are still pretty good. Besides, if it's quality boilerplate Moon Duo you're in for, look no further than the excellent eight-minute closer "Rolling Out". Like so much billowing smoke, it sounds like a party at the moontower turned cult ritual sacrifice, with more than enough space for Johnson's acid-damaged guitar to wail all over it. But "Rolling Out" is uncharacteristic of Circles on the whole, and part of the reason why it's a record that feels like something of a step up for the band. What seems like such a consistently pleasurable but perhaps stubbornly inflexible formula is consistently subverted in intriguing ways. It's a balance hard struck, being both varied and a little chaotic, yet somehow delicately balanced. Just like Emerson's view of the universe, Moon Duo's is equally "fluid and volatile." Sort of like nature herself.
