Slow Down
Luluc’s album Passerby is like the little white bungalow with a fenced-in and lush, green backyard in a neighborhood that has sold out to big-monied real estate developers who seek to convert everything into luxury condos, spas and frozen yogurt shops. It’s the lone centenarian holdout, living in its own time and place on its own schedule.
In that way they are She & Him’s darker, more serious siblings. Whereas that duo uses the Beach Boys and 60s girl groups as a medium through which to distill its pleasant and timeless brand of indie, Luluc mines the engines of broken souls such as Leonard Cohen. Singer Zoë Randell’s low, ecclesiastical vocals, combined with Steve Hassett’s distant and minimal guitar work give Luluc an intimate and delicate sound, laden with relaxed and somber overtones.
“Early Night” takes on the theme of impatience and courage in the face of uncertainty. As Randell sings, “Sometimes I don’t see what’s right in front of me/ yet I keep moving faster,” over a molasses backdrop, she criticizes herself for trying to scurry off to her destination without doing the proper research. Although she could really be chiding anyone else in this modern world to take a breather; why is everyone in such a hurry when they don’t even know where they are going?
There is a moment on the album where Luluc takes on hope. “Winter Is Passing” recalls those moments a couple weeks before spring. For those in temperate climates, Luluc pays homage to the feeling that after a long, cold, lonely winter there shall be life. They ask the listener to consider the possibilities that will come out of the snowmelt. What will be revealed?
On “Tangled Heart,” Luluc offers up a blend of subtle horns and a spacey lead guitar straight out of some desert wanderer’s regret-filled memories. As Randell sings about stuff like finding one’s way in New York, navigating heartbreak and overcoming confusion, more and more instruments slowly enter the mix until Luluc sounds like a full band. The increasingly happier instrumentation balances out the pained vocals.
On this gorgeous record, Luluc implores the world to take a second and be patient. By presenting a series of small victories instead of one large one accompanied by a sea of steady distractions, Luluc shows us that with the slow-burn comes the most ultimate reward.