Aural Fixations
DAMON & NAOMI
The Earth is Blue
(20 20 20)
I've always dismissed Damon & Naomi, thanks to their past association with indie rock icon Galaxie 500, a band I can't stand. That's turned out to be a mistake, as the music emanating from the loving duo is light years beyond anything their former band ever emitted. The wonderful Damon & Naomi with Ghost, a collaboration with the great Japanese acid folk ensemble Ghost, turned me on to them and their latest record The Earth is Blue has made me a fan for life. It's not that guitarist/drummer Damon Krukowski and bassist/keyboardist Naomi Yang (joined here by Ghost guitarist Michio Kurahara) are doing anything radical here—the sound is basically shimmering psychedelic folk rock. But the pair does what it does so damned well it's impossible to resist. "Sometimes" is a sparkling pop tune driven as much by Krukowski and Yang's intimate harmonies as by the propulsive melody. A cover of the Beatles' "While My Guitar Gently Weeps" breathes fragile, butterfly-winged life to an old warhorse. Glistening tunes like "Malibran," "Araçá Azul" (a musical adaptation of a Jefferson Santos poem) and "Beautiful Close Double" are simply gorgeous, like a lush field of tall grass swaying in the summer breeze. The tracks take their time getting where they're going, but never feel overextended or padded—the music simply feels no need to rush through its engaging melodies. The arrangements follow suit; rather than clutter the songs with multiple overdubs, Damon & Naomi keep the tracks stripped down to acoustic strumming, gentle but firm drumming, root-hugging bass and warm keyboards. Kurahara's electric guitar adds spice, while a pair of horn players grace a few songs, adding some different colors without upsetting the pallet. The duo crystallizes its approach with "House of Glass" and the title track, lengthy, unforced epics that build in intensity without ever approaching bombast. The Earth is Blue is one of the most beautiful records I've heard in quite a while, and a gentle lesson in the inherent foolishness of jumping to conclusions. Michael Toland [buy it]

