The only extra musician used this time with Kurt Vile. Recorded, as usual, at Amherst's Biquiteen, the sessions for Sweep It Into Space began in the late Autumn of 2019, following a West Coast/South East tour. produces is nothing but a beautiful new version of the rock continuum - riff, power, beat and longing, created with an eye on the infinite future. The subsequent generations of bands who grew up breathing Dino's fumes managed to tinker around with the edges of their original post-hardcore song-forms enough for listeners to realize there had always been melodies at the center of everything they did. In the decades since the release of Dinosaur Jr.'s original triptych of foundational albums, it has become clear that their sound - once hailed as a sort of almost-tamed noise - is/was/always-has-been fully functioning pop music of a sort. And Sweep It Into Space is a masterpiece of zoned dialing. But it would take more than a mere Plague to tamp down the exquisite fury of this trio when they are fully dialed-in. Originally scheduled for issue in mid 2020, this record's temporal trajectory was thwarted by the coming of the Plague. If we all get to live on that edge a bit more, we should be so lucky, but I’ll take the seven runs at it here and just put ‘em on repeat.Here is Sweep It Into Space, the fifth new studio album cut by Dinosaur Jr. There’s always a simmering feeling that the band will explore edges of the infinite, and they do for a time on “Pond Scum Ocean,” but Walker and his cohorts have perfected perching the slicked edged that runs between havoc and hooks. There’s a smooth veneer to the record that might harken back to Ryley’s Primrose Green, but this time around he lets the cracks show through and the improv soul saturate - breaking the stride on “Axis Bent” or downshifting styles on “Clad With Bunk.” Still, with his Genesis touchstone, he’s blending the wide-ranging touches on Course In Fable with enough pop to keep keep the record from getting bounced out of the indie bin and into the ‘Out’ row in the record shops. While I know that Walker has admittedly gone through a real Genesis phase during the recordings, they don’t feel as prominent to me as the shadow of prog-folk platters from Roy Harper, later period Tim Buckley, and the Suite years of Tim Hardin. The record that emerged from McEntire’s Northwest studio is touching, self-deprecating, and as complex as anything in Walker’s catalog.
With an eye on the ambitions of his hometown’s post-rock past, he’s brought the legend, John McEntire (Tortoise, The Red Krayola) on for production and keys along with MacKay, Jewell, and bassist Andrew Scott Young. His first foray into a vocal record in three years finds him plucking a few of those collaborators back into the mix, while keeping a nice tie to his Chicago roots. He’s been plumbing the depths of the unspoken soul on records that nudge his playing into tangled visions, but have more or less left his voice out of matters. Bohannon, Kendra Amelie and Kikagaku Moyo.
In the sunlight of sobriety, Walker has immersed himself in instrumental experimentation, racking up collaborations with Charles Rumback, Bill MacKay, Steve Gunn and Ryan Jewell, J.R.
RYLEY WALKER LOUNGEKONZERT FOR RADIOEINS ON FACEBOOK FULL
For his first record full studio LP on his own Husky Pants Records, Ryley Walker draws together parallels from his past while pushing the record further from his pastoral folk beginnings.
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