Sunset Rubdown: Always Happy to Explode

I’m trying to imagine your average Sunset Rubdown fan. I mean, I saw Spencer Krug do his thing live back in 2019 and didn’t really notice anything special about the audience. Granted, it was just him and a piano playing and singing songs from across his oeuvre while we sat at tables eating and drinking, so it was a little bit of an outlier in terms of concert experiences. And, honestly, the smoke machine was working overtime, so it was hard to see our fellow concertgoers, but I have to imagine it generally looked like an aging group of bespectacled intellectual types from East Coast or Pacific Northwest institutions. A lot of grad degrees and/or art school educations in that room. Present company excluded.

But why focus on a band’s audience? Because Krug and his multitude of experiments and iterations of indie rock music just stretch the idea of what art rock or whatever this is can be. And it makes me wonder who, if anyone, after not putting an album out since 2009, is even cognoscente that this was once a thing? And it’s weird. But, honestly, only the second least weird of his many bands and projects. I’d say Wolf Parade is his least weird. And then this. And then probably Swan Lake. And then Moonface and on down the line. Point is, the guy is pretty prolific and each one of his many endeavors has varying levels of weirdness. And while he was apparently wandering in the wilderness with his other primary and tertiary musical fancies, he seemingly forgot about Sunset Rubdown, one of his more brilliant outlets, for fifteen years. Putting out, by my count, thirteen albums through other outlets in that time. You’d think, then, that the hipsters would be up in arms. These Sunset Rubdown records were good — some of his best. And nothing.

So, how do you return to form after such a long hiatus for one of your more beloved (by me) iterations? Well, you start off right where you left off. By being a pretty straight-forward oddball mix of indie somethingorother, chamber pop and warbling Canadian-ness. Just as steeped in esoteric illusions and language that evokes German forests and isolated cabins. Even if the music has nothing to actually do with either of these things. It also evokes for absolutely no reason the Black Mirror episode, “San Junipero.” Other than the semi-80s flourish of some of the organ/keyboards, I can’t tell you for the life of me why. But listen to the excellent tune, “Candles,” and tell me you don’t hear it. Come to think of it, there are a lot of mentions of candles and moonlight and snakes (among many other animals). And dreams. Lots and lots of dreams. A theme that is right up front on their second album, Shut Up I am Dreaming, but is still present here almost twenty years later.

Look, this isn’t going to be for everyone. And, like I said, I have a hard time actually picturing who it is for. Who is that Sunset Rubdown fan in your mind? I still get puffy sweaters and black acetate glasses. So, Scooby-Doo’s Velma? Honestly, it’s probably not that far off — just thirty years on. Point is, this is a difficult band to qualify or classify. But there is always something compelling about Krug’s music. Something kind of magical. And while this may not have some of the hooks and “grabby” parts consistently throughout, it is an interesting and worthwhile listen nonetheless.