Zuma 85

Description

Are you tired of that same old song? Tune into any alt-rock robo-jock frequency on the FM dial and youll know what I mean. Somewhere along the way, nostalgia curdled, and it feels like were doomed to hear the same boring souls for eternity. But dont ask California sonsAllah–Lasthey wouldnt know a thing about it. The Stuff, which opens the bands fifth LP, Zuma 85, lays it out:

I dont listen to the radio/They keep playing that song again/And the deejays a computer.

As the glammy, electronic strut of the song indicates, Zuma 85 signals the start of a new era forAllah–Las, and finds the band reinventing itself in defiance of the algorithmic categorization and robotic sterility. Recorded in the midst of the shift from the Old World to whatever branch of reality were on now, its a return, too: The album will be released October 13th on their own label, Calico Discos, in partnership with Innovative Leisure, which released early defining statements likeAllah–Las(2012) and Worship The Sun (2014).

For the last 15 years,Allah–Lashave alchemically melded surf rock washes with folk rock jangle and rock, building up their lauded music podcast, Reverberation Radio, and record label, Calico Discos, in the process. But a lot has changed since Matthew Correia (drums/vocals), Spencer Dunham (bass, guitar, vocals), Miles Michaud (guitar, organ, vocals), and Pedrum Siadatian (guitar, synth, vocals) first bonded over psych rock vinyl in the back room at Amoeba Records in the late aughts. Zuma 85 finds the quartet facing a new world with a wealth of new sounds, drawing from an eclectic mix of progressive rock, prog, kosmische, and Eno-esque art rock, scuzzy Royal Trux riffs, and detouring into tones and textures that call to mind 90s and 2000s pop.

The album was born, like so much else these days, out of the downtime of 2020-2022. For most of the bands existence,Allah–Lasadhered to a year to album year/tour year schedule, logging serious hours on the road. When the shutdown of 2020 put everything on hold, it opened up space for each member to focus on their own lives and interests, and time to re-envision what creative processes could look like.

When it came time to reconvene, that sense of looseness proved pivotal. Instead of bringing finished songs to the studio, they entered the picturesque Panoramic House recording in Stinson Beach (a space co-owned by John Baccigaluppi of Tape Op magazine) with sketches, ideas, and riffs. Working with co-producer Jeremy Harris (White Fence, Devendra Banhart, Sam Gendel) they shaped and crafted the new songs in real time over three sessions, which were then mixed in Los Angeles by frequent collaborator Jarvis Taveniere (Woods, Avalanches, Purple Mountains).

It was clear from the get go the bucolic environmentobserved through picture windows overlooking Stinson Beach and Bolinas Baywould be conducive to creating the first statement fromAllah–Las2.0. We got in real late that first night of the first session, Michaud says. It was around midnight. We had a quick intro and Jeremy had a bottle of wine. We had a little and he said, You wanna start recording?

They did. And when the group reassembled the following morning to listen back, they found the sparkling and stutter–stepped Right On Time mostly done. It was unlike anything the band had ever recorded but felt entirely natural. Everything just worked, Michaud says. That studio just pulls it out of you.

Despite the habitat where Zuma 85 was crafted, these songs represent theAllah–Lasdeparting familiar beachy territory for off the map expanses, embracing the influence of late-era Lou Reed and John Cale, the 70s mutant pop of Peter Ivers and early Eno and Roxy Music, and textures borrowed from Japanese pop and loner-folk obscurities, There are kosmische zones, like the Popol Vuh-evoking Hadal Zone, anthemic and electronic boogies like The Stuff and Sky Club, and arch prog on tunes like GB BB and Smog Cutter. On the instrumental title track, Zuma 85, field recordings and chimes precede Manuel Gttsching (Ash Ra)-style guitars, which drift aquatically over a motorik rhythm and hazy synths.

Sharing a name with that song is a photo of an abandoned house by California photographer John Divola. Selected by Correia, the bands resident photography head and album art designer, it juxtaposes a visage of man-made chaos against the natural beauty of the West Coast. It served as an unspoken reference point for the album, a symbolic totem indicative of a new era. A decade and a half into their run asAllah–Las, Correia, Dunham, Michaud, and Siadatian continue on an evolutionary path. Are you tired of the same old songs? So are they. So blow it up and let it rip.