by Alison Ross
It was fate that brought us together, the Raveonettes and me. Sure, I'd heard their previous album, but I hadn't really taken to it like I felt I should, given its sonic kinship with the Jesus and Mary Chain, one of those bands I cherished in college. That kinship, you see, I felt was flaunted a bit too aggressively, and so the album didn't snare me into its nostalgia-trip trap. The prevalence of spiky surfer guitar squall and a conspicuously zoned-out milieu was well-trodden territory, thanks to the JAMC and its many modern-day mimickers, such as The Black Rebel Motorcycle Club. I didn't feel that the Raveonettes added anything fresh to the mix.
But "Lust Lust Lust," the latest offering from Raveonettes, audaciously smacks me upside the head and compels me to toss all previous biases aside.
"Lust Lust Lust" manages to transcend merely channeling the JAMC and extends its reach to conjure the stark stripped-down stylings of Johnny Cash and early Cure, the trippy tunes of The Velvet Underground, and even the glittery giddiness of the 60s girl groups like the Ronettes. For this reason, "Lust Lust Lust" has dug itself deep into my cerebrum.
"Lust Lust Lust" does not blatantly ape such sounds, of course, but rather melts them together to create a gauzy mesh of motown, rockabilly, post-punk, shoegaze, and psychedelia. This album exudes a blinding aural brightness like furiously overpolished silver, and yet the song textures are as plush as a pillow of clouds. It is one of those albums that lulls the listener into a luminously languorous trance while at the same time eliciting a buoyant mood.
It's as though we were meant to find each other, The Raveonettes and moi. I lust after them because they love who I love. They love my favorite bands and they enact a tribute to them through their mesmerizing masterpiece, "Lust Lust Lust."