Review Summary: In full bloom
Lightning Bug’s music can easily be characterized using the same predictable words which pepper my reviews for any vaguely dream pop-associated release - you know the drill, think “shimmering” or “blissful” or “hazy”. And the band does have all those advantageous qualities in spades. But, the band isn’t exactly typical for their chosen genre either, which is a good thing, given the prevalence of fairly generic artists in the space at this point in time. Lightning Bug’s most enduring asset is their admirable range - an ability to sometimes lean upon a heavier sound than typical of the style, to sometimes skew into a delightful ambient tinge (which featured prominently on 2021’s much-revered
A Color of the Sky), and often infusing their tunes with ample undertones of slowcore and Americana which add substantial depth to their gorgeous compositions.
Nothing stated in the previous paragraph feels wrong in regards to the New York quartet’s fourth LP. But
No Paradise still feels like a different sort of album than its predecessors. Previous efforts have felt less like a bunch of songs than an effort (generally successful) at capturing a singular, ethereal moment -
A Color of the Sky, for example, seemed to strike a chord with listeners primarily from its evocation of a feeling of serenity - to me, it’s basically the sonic equivalent of dew glistening and radiant sunbeams, you get the picture. The VIBE is important, in dream pop even more than most genres, of course. But, with the follow-up, it seems that Lightning Bug have taken a risk - write a bunch of tunes (twelve, to be specific) capable of standing on their own, throw them together, and hope that the atmosphere which emerges speaks for itself. Ultimately, the results here are scarcely less dreamy than usual, but
No Paradise is undoubtedly a more song-oriented experience, with much of the output leaning into indie-cum-folk stylings bolstered by occasionally more experimental moments.
Vocalist Audrey Kang is the true MVP here. She’s already proven her beautiful voice throughout the rest of the Lighting Bug discography, but on this record, her vocals take on more prominence than ever, and it’s a great decision. Much of the singing is the usual dream pop fare - emotive but restrained, delivered perfectly - but here and there, she lets loose, like in “Serenade”, and she sounds a bit like Renaissance’s Annie Haslam (there’s basically no higher praise in my book). Kang’s efforts play a vital role in achieving what appears to be
No Paradise’s essential objective - bringing Lightning Bug’s music back from the cosmic feel of their last effort to a more down-to-earth place, while still retaining both ample feeling and genuine magic.
The tracklist here features a remarkable amount of Lightning Bug’s finest material to date, and there’s not a single tune which doesn’t bring something to the table. Opener “On Paradise” is a wonderful introduction - a beautiful folky number which also demonstrates how on her game Kang is here. “The Flowering” is another early standout, elegant and melodramatic in the best way, while featuring a stunning countryish guitar solo. The aforementioned “Serenade” brings something different to the table with its bouncy beat and soaring vocals. Then there’s the closing title track, which wraps things up with a feeling of completion, very gentle and very touching. Within the runtime, there are some interesting curveballs as well. “The Withering”, for example, while short, features stream-of-consciousness style rhyming lyrics which are sure to be hit-and-miss with listeners (I like it, personally), while “Morrow Song” is a notable success while standing out as quite distinct within the Lightning Bug canon - a five minute jaunt over a shuffling, very traditional-sounding rhythm.
It seems certain that
No Paradise will be a somewhat controversial release within the small but mighty Lightning Bug fan community. It’s an album which scales back the group’s typical approach, in a sense - still embracing a naturalistic feel, but in a less airy and more intimate way. Think of focusing on a little garden instead of on the setting sun - it’s less grand, sure, but also more personal. For me, this record is their magnum opus, and I don’t just say that because it features a track called “Opus”. There’s simply too many stunners here, with Kang delivering an incredible performance and her bandmates executing a series of versatile backdrops with ease.
No Paradise is, ironically, pretty heavenly, but in a more tangible and less ephemeral fashion than before. The sound of the summer (my summer, at least) is already here.
