Over four previous albums, singer and songwriter
Ray LaMontagne has presented as many different musical portraits of himself. What united those records was the signature world-weariness in his writing and singing -- even in the seeming celebratory roots rock on 2009's
God Willin' & the Creek Don't Rise. While
Supernova, helmed by producer
Dan Auerbach, presents yet another aspect of the songwriter's persona, that earthly weightiness all but vanishes. This is simultaneously
LaMontagne's most sonically ambitious and purposefully referential offering to date; but the considerable topical and melodic shift in his songwriting dictated it. These songs are brighter, lighter, and musically more labyrinthine despite their ready accessibility.
Auerbach's sound and textural palettes are so expansive he seems to have evoked
Jack Nitzsche as a muse. He chose the band to orchestrate these songs that draw so heavily from Southern California's psychedelic pop and country-rock of the late 1960s and early '70s. "Lavender" has fat electric guitar chords that give way to a strummed acoustic guitar, Mellotron, and electric harpsichord. The dreamy Eastern feel in the music is held to earth by clipped snares and a lean bassline. But
LaMontagne's layered, reverbed vocal and its whispered, percussive, "tchick-ahhh" chorus effects make the song's textures swirl. "Airwaves," in its hepcat acoustic soul and dreamy jazz, is one of several places where
LaMontagne acknowledges the influence of early
Van Morrison (from
Astral Weeks through
Moondance). "Pick Up a Gun" is darkly tinged at inception; it recalls
Alice Coltrane's modalism with its harp-like Mellotron intro, but breaks into four different segments inside five minutes. It's alternately a sweet country waltz, a progressive folk-rock tune a la
Tim Buckley, and a tripped-out pop tune a la
Brian Wilson. "Julia" borrows the vamp from
Them's "Gloria" but winds it out in grand psych rock style to become something other. The title track initially evokes the spirit of
Morrison's "Brown Eyed Girl" with its minimal acoustic guitar vamp, pulsing organ (that sounds more like a Farfisa than a Hammond), and handclaps, but threads it with a retro-soul bridge and layers of progressive instrumentation, including glockenspiel and Mellotron, which float under a sitar impersonation and reverbed drums. "Ojai" is shimmering country-rock that simultaneously recalls
Tim Hardin and
John Phillips. The shifting rhythms and textures in "Smashing" are so exquisitely arranged and orchestrated, it feels like a rock suite with the alluring melody of a pop song. Closer "Drive-In Movies" an easy-grooving acoustic rocker with electric and pedal steel guitars holding the center, offers a notion of reminiscence that seems to thematically underscore the entire record.
Supernova is unapologetically and indulgently retro; a casual listen might dismiss it as mere nostalgia. But pairing
Auerbach's detailed, careful production with
LaMontagne's open, expertly crafted songwriting and breezy, sensual, emotionally unburdened signing, that boundary is shattered. ~ Thom Jurek