Lucky Dragons drop 'n' click a laptop collage that finds fleshiness through the layering of electro-acoustic sounds. Widows, a collection of 16 literal "pieces," is at its best when approximating an Apple Store jamboree: guitar, fiddle, cello, percussion, and brass compliment the digital domain; some guy in the back tries to play a mouse like a singing saw; a kid turns an external hard drive into a washboard.
The Lucky Dragons moniker is plural, but besides guests and extra hands (there's tons of clapping), the "band" consists solely of Luke Fischbeck, an LA-based musician who attended Brown University's electronic music program. He's apparently been at this thing for years and sounds like he set to work after absorbing a steady diet of Electric Birds, Tape, Partch, and Jackie-O Motherfucker. You might snag a bit of the Books, but I'd rather liken what he does here to Tower Recordings, or something from that family tree; these particular 1s and 0s feel folk. At times his spirit/energy reminds me of some ghosts of Portland past like Bugskull or even Irving Klaw Trio.
But then, you could also pluck Animal Collective feathers here and there, like on the seven-minute "The Sound Of Waves". It could be heard, too, as a more tuneful take on the post-munchkin-core of Avey Tare & Kria Brekkan. The helium sucking can be sweet in small doses, but carried across various tracks, Lucky Dragons' Quasimoto impression starts to fade, largely because what he's saying is incomprehensible...bring on The Unseen's fatty rhymes, and we're engaged in a different narrative. Is it a self-help M83 fairytale? At one point a sped-up/kid voice says "I can't do it" and someone responds, "Yes you can, it's easy." Guess that could be read R. Kelly-style.
Though language is never entirely transcribed, certain recurrent tropes emerge, like mini-Greek Choruses: those aforementioned handclaps as a fancy-free joyousness (also barking and yipping), divergent song title couplets ("Summer Swans" and "Dark Falcon"), Yars Revenge swarms. The loveliest ellipses occur when cuts increase the duration of what came before, or fuck with what you've come to expect: A gurgle replaced by a pretty string swell; instead of porn, you download a real-life dulcimer and recorder duo; the little monster voices and toddler free jazz of "V Pattern" skips over to the melancholic "Death Friends". There are a number of facets to this. Fischbeck does have a lot going on-- it never feels like background or soundtrack music.
That said, though Fischbeck keeps tapping at the ecstatic-- he somehow makes drums sound like pop rocks!-- he doesn't just let it flow. To be honest it's difficult to know if the entire record's supposed to be read as one sprawl. I'd like to think so. If not, most songs are shameless ADD nuggets: one track is 14 seconds, four are under a minute, and each subdivides continually. Instead of diagramming each jump-cut, it's best to close your eyes and take it like a fan. As mentioned above, tracks are obviously meant to play off and with one another (i.e. the magisterial "Peasantries" and spazoid follow-up "Pleasantries") and I'm sure connections go even deeper.
Still, the record is not entirely satisfying. It can even be annoying. You want dude to hiccup Henry Flynt, or listen to Burning Stare Core... or something. His live shows receive high praise-- some sort of interactive Please Touch museum with audience participation and collaboration. To me, that seems like just the sort of endlessness Widows needs: songs moving from hand to hand, spiraling as long as the audience keeps the tools afloat. Even if Fischbeck doesn't nail that here, love that laptop music's currently offering the possibility.
