Let It Come Down Is Spiritualized in All Its Angsty, Symphonic Splendor

Jason (Spaceman) Pierce is a master at straddling the disparate realms of classical flash and folksy/bluesy/gospel sweep. This unexpected combo has become the trademark sound for Spiritualized and their newest release doesn't deviate from it, despite the fact that it took an upheaval of the band's original lineup and an inordinate amount of time to complete. On first listen the album's heavy scent of familiarity may seem a tad too predictable and fans may wonder what took Pierce so damn long, but good things come to those who wait. If you give yourself some time to get to know the album better, to wine and dine it (so to speak), the payoff is big.

Let It Come Down has little of the crystalline beauty of Ladies and Gentlemen, We Are Floating In Space, but on closer inspection you'll find that there's a deeper resonance in its rawness. Pierce has never been shy about telling you how he feels; now what he's feeling may be a bit more interesting. Instead of lovely but slightly self-absorbed laments, we get sweetly structured love songs and neatly framed explorations of loss, the kind of lyrical and emotional simplicity that populates the best country-and-western or old-school blues. Pierce seems to know exactly where he's headed: there are no hairpin turns or abrupt transitions, and while this is still Spiritualized in all its angsty, symphonic splendor, it is a Spiritualized moving one step closer to something that feels truly authentic. The album's first track, "On Fire," is surprisingly upbeat, kicking off with a twinkling honkytonk piano riff that quickly explodes into full-on rocking out with a host of female backup singers, grinding guitars and Pierce's unmistakable vocals growling out gems like, "I'm on fire, no water for the flames! I'm alive, with no one but myself to blame!" The album's sixth track, "Do It All Over Again," is back to Spiritualized basics, a dreamily melodic sway of guitar and strings that evolves into a hugely orchestrated epic, its symphonic elements matched with the unexpected, like a downhome harmonica skillfully intertwined with French horns.

Track three, "Don't Just Do Something," is particularly lovely, a slow, hypnotic number that moves from slide guitar simplicity to a choir-backed chorus then back again to a delicately sparse finale, with Pierce singing, in a nearly inaudible whisper, "gonna drown before my ship comes in." "Out of Sight" follows it up with a high gear smack, a kind of bluesy, early 70s rock 'n' roll sound that features some tricks like a wailing police siren hidden among slap bass and violins. Another favorite track, "The Straight and the Narrow," has touches of late Velvets and early Lou, which weave their way around Pierce's plaintive chorus, "the trouble with the straight and the narrow is it's so thin, I keep fallin' off to the side."

"I Didn't Mean to Hurt You" is just beautiful, beginning with a blues guitar that quickly slips into keyboards and kettle drum, then a climax of horns. It's a soundtrack suited for some tearjerking cinematic romance, one that you enjoy despite yourself, like the bittersweet pain you push at like a loose tooth. Let It Come Down's last track, "Lord Can You Hear Me," begins with church organ platitudes and moves into a kind of antigospel chorus of agnostic doubt. "Lord, can you hear me when I call? Lord, can you hear me, hear me at all?" You may not hear the Lord, but you can hear that Velvet Underground sound again, hidden amongst the slide and the sweet rumbling of the choral singers.

Spiritualized's distinctive talent is to grasp at bits of the musical past, at grit and sincerity and soul, and give them new life through rich production, layered choruses and classical instrumentation. On Let It Come Down Pierce has this formula down to a science. The album's resonant with nostalgia, yet there's always a hint of subtle innovation that might be lost on first listen. It grows on you, spreads out its arms and wraps you up. It is Pierce's unique skill to draw you in slowly, seduce you with a slinky piano riff or a folksy guitar, then lead you straight up to the mountaintop, where he'll surround you with bombastic orchestral grandeur, then gently, sweetly, float you back down to Earth again.