Here at Bearded Gentlemen Music, we frequently rage against the nostalgia machine like we’re Zack and Tom. No matter the lens, medium, or artistic discipline, you should never revere the past at the expense of the present, much less the future. While it’s true that there’s nothing necessarily new under the sun, that vainglorious axiom has been abused to the point of being meaningless. However, if nothing can be created ex nihilo, then all creation is interpretation. Thus, while vibes-centric nostalgia is the domain of lazy opportunists, talented acts can learn from the past and pursue intentional reinvention.
Which brings us to the music of Moontype.
This Chicago outfit excels at taking old sounds and crafting new wineskins. On their sophomore album, I Let the Wind Push Down On Me, the quartet borrows from Judee Sill, Devendra Banhart, Big Thief, and Black Tambourine to create elegant indie folk with edge and teeth. Released on Orindal Records, this eleven-song album embraces elements of jazz, art rock, and shoegaze. It’s an earthy fusion of ‘70s outsider folk, ‘90s jangle pop, ‘00s freak folk that defies twee pastoralism.
At the heart of the band sits Margaret McCarthy – bassist, vocalist, and songwriter. Though her aching, careworn soprano reveals someone who has experienced tough life lessons, her gently cracked falsetto delivers sincere emotional heft. She sings plainly and earnestly, despite everything that life has thrown her way. Rejecting any hint of the manic pixie dream girl aesthetic, she revels in her agency by living and speaking for herself.
It doesn’t hurt that her rich bass lines pulse with subtle energy. She combines strong grooves, contrapuntal movement, and a pronounced avoidance of mere root notes. Emerson Hunton provides bright drumming with limited flair and a keen metronome. The dual guitar work of Joe Suihkonen and Andrew Clinkman alternately twinkle and crunch depending on whether a song needs proggy lead licks, precocious strum patterns, or anything in between.
The overarching strength of Moontype lies in its familiar yet fanciful melodic structures.
McCarthy’s arrangements bask in bridges and vamps, complete with clever shifts in tempo, pacing, and dynamics. You hear it most in tracks like “Four Hands ii,” “Walking in the Woods,” “Anymore,” and “Starry Eyed.” The band’s performance reveals a penchant for robust technical precision, but it never feels flashy. Instead, they opt for understated excellent that adds texture and class without showing off.
In lesser hands, I Let the Wind Push Down On Me could be obnoxious hipster folk-jazz, complete with wanky time signatures and egregious riffing. Instead, Moontype pursues humanity in its art, especially in how McCarthy’s heartfelt vocals play off the instrumentation to evince a playful sincerity. Sure, lots of skillful bands attempt to mine Laurel Canyon aesthetics, art school expertise, and religious compound vibes in their music. But most of them don’t have the artistic fortitude to rejuvenate those sounds with a fresh perspective that evades the nostalgia trap completely.