Originally written by Jordan Campbell
Lantlôs will always be tied to Alcest. Neige provided vocals for the project’s most prominent releases (to date), so comparisons are unavoidable. But while Alcest’s praises were humming on the lips of the many, Lantlôs’ little-brother weirdness has been embraced by few. Where Alcest has taken a predicable arc in their escape from the world of post-black bootgaze, Lantlôs has been getting real weird with it, starting with 2011’s brillant Agape.
Agape took extended detours into dark jazz corridors, but always found it’s way back to majestic, blackened crunch. Main-brain Herbst took even more of a detour with last year’s LowCityRain record, an oft-enthralling, surprisingly confident straddling of new wave and dreampop conventions. (The concise shimmers of “Nightshift” fared better than the M83-cribbing of tracks like “Vulnerable Now,” but overall, it’s a minor gem.)
Now, he’s taken these experimental divergences and gelled them into Melting Sun, kicking Neige (and any Alcest comparisons) to the wayside and venturing into unknown territory.
Those dreampop and whatever-wave dalliances have found their way into Lantlôs, and the black metal as been completely scrubbed out. And initally, it’s exhilharating. Herbst has always been blessed with a knack for wisful heft, and he slathers it all over this thing; he’s taking cues from the best of Diamond Eyes (“Sextape,” “Beauty School”) and lending it layer upon layer of sonic weight. Opener “Azure Chimes” is stunning, and the build to the crushing closing seconds of the eight-minute “Aquamarine Towers” might be one of the most gorgeous things laid down this year.
The immediacy of these songs are more than enough to cast one into the throes of infatuation. The band’s transition to exclusively clean vocals is seamless, and the instrumental swells are divine. But as we discovered on Agape, Herbst tends to lose focus. It’s part of his charm. In fact, that’s part of what made Agape so brilliant; he casually careened down pitch-dark corridors, lost, finally emerging into the heart-swelling homecoming of “Eribo – I Collect the Stars.”
Melting Sun, unfortunately, gets lost and stays lost. It’s hopelessly front-loaded, and the final two tracks (there’s only six of ’em) simply dissipate. The record doesn’t end, it just kind of…goes away.
And thus, Melting Sun feels incomplete. Unfinished. Packed with bursts of brilliance that weren’t quite fleshed to fruition. This shift in style opens a whole new world for Lantlôs, but they’re merely kissing the surface. I want more of this.
Maybe that’s the narrative: Lantlôs is the chase, not the catch. Nevertheless, Melting Sun is swollen with wanting.
