I haven’t been progged up enough this year and it’s mostly my own fault. I’m struggling to wade out into broader waters this year with music and, if it’s not on my plate to review, it’s generally drifting by me. Even when I find myself in this mode, there’s bands that can and will pull me out of my ways and demand attention. Since 2019, Moon Letters have been one of those bands.
All it took was an e-mail to tip me off that a new album was coming from my favorite Pacific Northwest prog rock band and I was locked in. What scenery would Moon Letters cloak themselves in this time, and what form would it all take? Until They Feel the Sun mastered myth and melody alike, crafting an uncommonly good debut LP that even prog legends would be proud to have lining their catalogs. Thank You From the Future was more explorative, the music within calling to a spacier modality as teased on the old-school sci-fi surrealism noted on the cover (shout out to the artist Mariano Peccinetti). The band seemed to be getting more comfortable taking bolder directions, something that jarred fans out of the post-pandemic malaise.
This Dark Earth can be seen as the best of both proggy worlds, propped up by profoundly personal themes. While this new LP is certainly a bit moodier given those themes, more akin to Until They Feel the Sun, it’s also teeming with suspense and adventurous movement like Thank You From the Future trojan horsed into listeners’ bodies. It also injects some more theatrical sensibilities into the music, something that prog rock can’t help but indulge in frequently. Sonically, a big focus is placed on performance, but not enough so that interesting writing and heart get lost in the shuffle. This is all represented very well with the album’s two singles, “Silver Dream” and “In the Catacombs”, the former boasting big-time trumpet lines at its climax and the latter nailed down by strong rock passages that amount to some of the heaviest, fastest, funnest stuff Moon Letters have put out.
It’s also the best produced album the band have laid down yet. Still jointly produced by Robert Cheek and the band as a whole like their last album, everyone just sounds louder and crisper here without blowing out anyone else in the mix, or your ears. I absolutely love the variation of sounds on “Dawn of the Winterbird” which may be cheating as it’s Moon Letters‘ longest song yet at 17+ minutes. Itself a suite of three distinct sections, they all contain unique fingerprints. “i. I Am Not Afraid” is the suite at its proggiest, the end dancing with hands interlaced with prog greats like Genesis with some of the melodies and synths. “ii. Laughing Stream” is more gentle, but blustery – a natural wonder and allure at its center along with the longing to be near someone else (‘I can’t understand, feelings that I planned/But I’d rather be with you/Over a laughing stream/Is it another dream?/Falling asleep beside the TV again…‘). “iii. The Portal” shows us warbling psychedelia, a watery technicolor end to a mind’s journey through strife and darkness. The piano really kicks in here to bolster the mood along with the somber lyrics. It feels like a finality, but taps into triumphant and huge moments to send This Dark Earth off with a bang.
Often when you hear the keyboard on this album, they sound distinct and reminiscent of the unique squeaky ‘meep‘ of the American Woodcock. It’s definitely a specific type of sound that a lot of prog bands and synth enthusiasts employ often, especially back in the heyday of those things, and I love it here, particularly in the album opener “Energy of the Heart”. As Moon Letters ensconce themselves into a more spacey tone over time, they keep finding new textures and methods to convey that, and with it the immeasurable atmosphere it can’t help but invoke. This Dark Earth may be a deeply personal album, but the voyaging it does by virtue of its sound helps it become relatable among a huge crowd. Because who among us can’t identify with the stirring poetry that feels in love with the world around it on “Silver Dream” (‘Feel the cold inside the heat/Feel the flowers start to breathe/Together, all the time/Bed for two/Secrets we can harvest from the moon‘)?
This is a pretty different album that Moon Letters have graced us with this time. Though they have done nothing that abandons their progressive conventions, they’ve also lived up to the root meaning of the word ‘progressive’ by expanding, growing, and experimenting in their own way. This Dark Earth is touching prose cloaked in commanding and vast instrumentation that plays to complicated emotions. I can’t help but smile as the music peaks and valleys across these six songs. If you’re lost your proggy ways like I did, I’d highly recommend jumping back in with this album to feel once again.
