The idea that “rock is dead” has been around for decades now. White male rock fans and music critics have made such baseless claims since the genre first reared its head in the 1950s. Each time a new twist on guitar-based music appears, fans of the earlier incarnation start whining. They bitch and moan about how rock changed and that no one makes the good stuff anymore.
Those people are idiots. Multi-generational doofuses. Willfully ignorant.
All they’re really saying is that the specific strain of rock they enjoyed during their teenaged years is no longer popular. In fact, they’re happy to be stuck in the past. They just want to complain that no one is recreating their favorite sounds from their high school days.
Such pronouncements reveal that those dummies don’t know where or how to search for new music. Which is an absolutely preposterous thing to admit to people, especially in the Year of Our Lord Spotify 2021. To be clear, you shouldn’t use streaming services to support your favorite acts since the compensation is abysmal. But it’s an alarmingly easy way to discover new stuff if your local radio stations suck.
If those supposed rock music fans were actually interested in rock music – not complaining about the alleged lack of rock music in the world – they would be preaching the gospel of MOON to the high heavens. This Los Angeles-based duo serves up thick slices of Southern-fried rock complemented with a spaced-out aesthetic. The self-released Shine EP combines the growl of Alabama Shakes with the dark sheen of the Eurythmics and then injects a hearty penchant for genre-busting that would make Sturgill Simpson proud.
But what really grabs my attention is the twosome’s dedication to the aura and mystique of the American Southwest.
The five-song album kicks off with a bang. The title track rips and roars like a classic muscle car barreling down a two-lane highway in the middle of nowhere. But as “My Oh My (I’ll Take You Home)” comes to a close, the listener has left on a journey into the great beyond. A dirty and raucous beginning that evokes the spirit of Deadwood eventually finds its conclusion in The X-Files. MOON has left our planet to seek answers and new beginnings in space.
This is ambitious, big-hearted rock of the highest order.
Everything feels so huge, even thought it’s created by just two people. Chelsea Dawn channels Janis Joplin’s voice and then fuses Keith Moon’s drumming with just the right sprinkling of funky syncopation. Dan Silver works aural magic with crunchy guitar tone, fuzzed-out lead lines, thick synths, and tight production values. The music is both aggressive and intentional in that MOON doesn’t hold back, but never loses control. Like any veteran rock act, the two know how to get a feel for the room, and they certainly have a clear plan of action for executing their art.
I’m also enamored by the thoughtful and philosophical bent to the lyrics. Rich in “spiritual, but not religious” imagery, Dawn speaks about finding one’s own path in the world. She authentically conveys the emotionally fraught experience of leaving a world that stunted your growth for new ideas and perspectives. It’s the sound of someone pursuing healing from past traumas by seeking wholeness and genuine connection.
MOON has created high-quality rock music with something to say.
Thanks to a diverse reservoir of sonic roots, the Shine EP showcases a duo adept in crafting strong and sensitive tunes with a focused point of view. If you’ve ever complained about the lack of new rock music in your life, then you should get off your ass and start supporting everything this talented group creates.