Luna
Luna, a quartet that includes former members of such low-volt age bands as Galaxie 500, the Feelies and the Chills, is like a bumper car content to prowl a circumscribed arena. Luna's new album, like its previous two, doesn't rock so much as administer well-cushioned bumps that send out a tiny shower of sparks. Few things musical could be more pleasant. The guitar work, by Dean Wareham and Sean Eden, has a nice, easy lope to it, and the production is airy and hushed. Wareham's adenoidal vocals have a pickled quality to them, but they're just right for lyrics that are typically silly and tart, as in "Rhythm King" ("Headin' for Tacoma, and drivin' too fast/Nixon's in a coma, and I hope it's gonna last/Women turn to flowers, men turn to snakes..."). It bumps along from there. (Elektra)
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