Lord Huron – Long Lost (Download Free album Zip)
Fans of Ben Acker and Ben Blacker’s podcast, “Thrilling Adventure Hour,” and its accompanying stage show, will find themselves right at home on Long Lost, the new concept album by Lord Huron that will have listeners doing the time warp.
Like “TAH,” Long Lost throws listeners into a 1940s or ’50s variety television “program.” Where the former was more cosmopolitan with odes to sleek cigarettes and suits, the album is plastered onto the background of Nashville-adjacent middle America. Yet, the 13 songs on this equally thrilling hour of music aren’t out of the realm of music on which Lord Huron has been circling since 2012’s Lonesome Dreams, 2015’s Strange Trails and 2018’s Vide Noir: dreamy folk that creates a mood as much as it tells stories that pulls on your heartstrings.
Ahead of the album release, Lord Huron spent months building a mythology for it: Introducing one “Mr. Tubbs Tarbell,” a fictional resident of a countryfied version of the band’s Whispering Pines studio (and possibly a ranch) and witness to the band’s creation of songs that seem both familiar and new. In this version of the story, Tarbell credits himself as the writer of the album’s only fully uptempo song, single “Not Dead Yet.” The jangly tune, which blends acoustic and electric guitars and a four-on-the-floor snare-led beat, falls two-thirds of the way into the web of some other dimension. It’s the album’s only moment of jubilant release, while much of the rest has the effect of making you tense up, wanting to know where Lord Huron’s story will take you.
There’s also the variety show itself, which structures the album into neat segments: an introduction, breaks, conclusion and the clapping of a studio TV show audience. Tarbell appears to be the host of this show. The mysterious quality seems pulled directly from “Twin Peaks.”
The first 30 seconds of album opener “The Moon Doesn’t Mind” blends out of 14-minute closing tune “Time’s Blur.” When you’re listening to the album on repeat, it will create a trippy effect of force-pushing and -pulling you out of the warped new dimension of the record. These musical segments—wordless, phase-shifted synths, absent of any real structure—could go into “Close Encounters of the Third Kind” without a second thought. These blurs of time are the travel into the rest of the record.