AU‘s latest release, Both Lights, hits me like a wave. I walked right into it, eyes open. The music writer Bob Palmer once described “a fusion of music and poetry accomplished at a very high emotional temperature.” He called it “a gigantic field of feeling…something enduring, something that could be limitless.” Palmer was talking about the Blues. But all I can think about is AU.
Like all waves, it keeps on coming. AU‘s third album, Both Lights, is a recurring dream. The eleven songs made by the Portland, Oregon-based duo Luke Wyland and Dana Valatka, are a story of Time. Three years to be exact; since their critically-acclaimed 2008 album Verbs and its 2009 EP evolution Versions, there’s been a long exhale. A little defiance of the double-speed countdown of the indie hype clock. And a hell of a lot of living. Turn it on. More than a mere accompaniment, it’s a gleaming mirror. It’s an exaltation, an exhalation, a monument of extreme composition, the child of collaboration and isolation, a preamble to a wild live show, a statue intact in the violent wind of art and commerce, and, simply, a record about love. It’s for itself, and, in being that, it’s an album that can be understood like a person. “It’s the topography of me,” says Wyland. So you follow the coordinates.
The first video off the new album is an optically engaging and tripped-out kaleidoscope of a visual for “OJ.” The video is much like the song it illustrates — frenetic, ethereal and colorful.