4 out of 5

Label: At a Loss Recordings

Produced by: Jason Ward

Both momentous and subtle, Del Rey’s Immemorial continues the group’s sublimation of both their Radian-influenced electronic flourishes and Chicago-bred rock instincts into a smoother and more patient beast.  In fact, at first listen, even the spaced-out punctuations of A Pyramid for the Living are gone, lost amidst a cluttered list of instruments and the crowded, sunlit foliage of the album’s cover.  But as with that bit of brightness peaking through the leaves, Immemorial thrives on the promise of something to come, and if you’re willing to wait for it, its impressive indeed.

Amusingly, as to that exhaustive list of what-country-is-that-from instruments, most of those probably contribute to the ‘tween-track snippets: two to three minute twinkling bridges of drifting tune that bring us to the next ten minute stretch of guitar and bass and double drums.  In other words: don’t get it twisted, this is still Del Rey, still heavy and pummeling, they’re just getting smarter about calmly cooing you toward your hard rocking demise.  Because once lulled into those longer tracks, lord above, have these boys grown.

Where once there were start and stop math riffs, we now get a caress that nudges you into believing that distorted, rumbling guitar-ery, pulsing bass lines, and thunderous drums are a-okay and what we need for the world to go ’round.  Immemorial convinces us that this is our soundtrack for surviving: to wake to, to sleep to, to salute to…. What?  And when you suddenly question being indoctrinated with your sturm and drang marching orders, we’re back to those drifting, shimmery bridge tracks…

I won’t lie, I wish for something more direct at times, but I do have the previous Del Rey albums for that.  Immemorial takes time to warm to, perhaps purposefully, but once you’re engaged, it’s a uniquely warm, fangs-slowly-sinking-in type of bliss.