DAVID LYNCH

THE BIG DREAM (Sunday Best)

15/20

David Lynch’s obsession with surreal details and meticulous sound design has seen him experiment across the gambit of creative expression, from painting to television and film, cultivating countless idiosyncratic and barely understandable universes, from Eraserhead to Inland Empire. The Big Dream, Lynch’s second full length album, continues his obsessions and themes.

The languid drum machine and twanging guitars of the opening title track sound inevitably otherworldly, but there is also a nagging familiarity at play. Lynch’s vocals fit like a glove, his geeky drawl never failing to raise a smile. Tonally it’s off-kilter, but as the guardian of this work it sits tight in the mix. Star Dream Girl see him come over all Tom Waits, gnarled and gruff, backed by a Southern groove straight from the delta.

Cold Wind Blowing has the qualities of a soundtrack, not far removed from Lynch’s exceptional work on Twin Peaks with composer, Angelo Badalamenti and vocalist Julee Cruise. The Ballad Of Hollis Brown is the most lyrically linear track here, telling a sorry tale through the eyes of the titular protagonist, deep in the plains of South Dakota where the cycle of life and death plays out its fateful conclusions. Say It and We Rolled Together employ the same template of drum machine, twangy guitars and distorted vocals telling stories of a netherworld only accessible through the medium of dreams. Symbols and significances float by, forming obtuse vernacular that can make sense once you know the language.

The vocal experimentations of Sun Can’t Be Seen No More sound like singing with a mouth full of water, attempting to channel the ‘throat singers’ of Nepal. It’s dark and dirty and sandpaper rough. I Want You and The Line It Curves reside in the same world as Massive Attack or Tricky, laid back and woozy but with a focus that finds form in its smoke-like perimeter. The best track is saved for last. Are You Sure feels like a transcendental meditation on the natural world and man’s relationship with it. The question in its title mirrors precarious knowledge we take for granted but is always subject to change.

This album is another ‘Lynchian’ success in which David takes us on a journey of self-discovery that is ultimately as confusing as it is revelatory. While music may never be Lynch’s most accomplished medium, there’s no escaping The Big Dream’s dark landscape, where light can be found by taking the journey inside the mind. Dreams can often be the interpreter of our experiences, and no one summons this innately surreal realm quite like him.

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Words: Philip James Allen