Jesus Christ! Twisted Pop indeed! I feel like Andrew Kluchareff was part of some experimental scientific project in which musicians were transported into the mind of Tim Burton and asked to re-create whatever they saw with the most amount of instruments they could find. Either that, or Danny Elfman has an incredibly talented distant relative that listened to waaaaayyy too much of The Birthday Party growing up. There’s simply no other way to explain the dark genius that shrouds the music of Lunars, which is the sole creation of Kluchareff. That’s right, this fucked up masterpiece is a tapestry devised by one guy…this dude is the Aaron Sorkin of weird-shit pop.
Lunars specialty is when Kluchareff succumbs to the more distrubing facets of music. Like a subdued Kirin J Callinan without all the ear-shattering noise, Lunars is at home with some crackle and pop. Opener ‘Black Bay’ introduces spindly guitar next to a mayday-sounding call, before multiple loops and layers punctuate the skull with a sense of foreboding that hasn’t been heard since Darth Vader first appeared on our screens. Things calm down to a morbid spine-tingling pose when ‘Love One Day’ comes in, announcing itself like some sort of alternate theme song to The Twilight Zone. But then the twisted insanity is brought back front and centre with the title track (posted above) and it’s follow up ‘A Song’. The drawn out, gore-filled guitar that twists throughout these things is haunted house fucked up-I would rather have psychopathic hillbillies raise a chainsaw to my head that have to be in a room while Kluchareff was recording these and having to witness the demented poses he struck when creating this.
But he saves the best for last doesn’t he, with a Primitive Calculators kinda jam on ‘Spaces Between Places’, a personal favourite from the EP. There’s shimmer on here, but at the same time, the song has an off-kilter and dangerous sneer, like Nick Cave’s Stagger Lee has been updated for the modern age, and is sitting in a cafe in Melbourne, plotting his next slaughter. The instrumental fuzzball of jilted feedback ‘Space Jam’ (not a reference to the Michael Jordan/Bugs Bunny movie…at least, I think) ends out the EP, a nice little nightmare to finalise your sleepless nights brought on from this absolutely deranged EP.
To summarise, the EP shreds with a dark and malnourished genius rarely seen on this planet. Lunars has lifted the game from this year’s earlier self-titled debut, and this impressive gargantuan effort of contorted pop will go down in annals as a thing of eyebrow-raising cool.