Luna – Rendezvous

Much has been made of Luna tossing in its guitars and sexy lamps and calling it quits, and much hype heaped upon the band’s latest, Rendezvous. I will have to come right out, first of all, and admit that I’m not that familiar with Luna, but after listening to Rendezvous, I regret not jumping on the tailend of the band’s astral comet a bit sooner. And now the band is no more. The moment has passed. Tear. Sniff.

I imagine Luna would delight in my sadness, an emotion Rendezvous’ 11 tracks seem heavily steeped in. Melancholy, wistfulness, and subtle humor all appear in Dean Wareham’s intricate guitar pickings and hushed, soothing vocals. Every note on the album feels intricately placed. Every word sung feels thoroughly vetted. Luna has nary a molecule of atmosphere to spare on this record. These folks have been at this far too long. Seven’s a good number to cap it all off with, right? And there’s always the possibility of a reunion, right after the Galaxie 500 reunion of course.

Despite the bedroom seduction in Luna’s quietly modish mood, Wareham will occasionally toss a few knucklers just to see if you’re paying attention, because after all, this is the last album, right? “You will call me Robespierre / Put the powder in your hair,” he name checks in opener “Malibu Love Nest,” which picks up its laconic (in a good way) pacing at about the four-minute mark with some excellent, soaring momentum. This song transitions strangely into “Cindy Tastes of Barbecue,” which isn’t nearly as ridiculous as it sounds and actually uses lines like “Your purple mouth says snicker snack” to a delightful and breezy effect.

Luna actually kicks off the slippers and kicks out the jams in “Astronaut,” with its chugga-chugga rhythm and brisk, wiggly pacing. It’s comforting to a see a band at peak form twisting and stomping with such unmitigated abandon. Comforting also is the conviction in Wareham’s voice when he sings “I like flowers, I like sex” in “Motel Bambi,” that you can’t help but to smile and nod, and possibly agree. Luna conjures a hushed, soothing fog through which guitars vibrate and weave in “The Owl & the Pussycat” – a fairytale in its own right.

Citing an ever-expanding universe and the murderous toll rock n’ roll has taking on his life, Wareham seemed to express little regret in his decision to retire. Yet with Rendezvous as a milestone left in Luna’s absence, one can’t help but to feel in good hands with the band’s legacy.