Louisville's Twin Limb self describe themselves as "dream pop" – only in their variation, it's a dream pop that combines the "pop" of Warhol's Chelsea Girls with the jagged dream states of Surrealism. Disquieting, emotively loaded, boldly defined yet wide open to interpretation, Twin Limb's newest, Haplo, is more like the musical equivalent of the paintings or automatic poetry of the early Surrealists. Its darker elements delivered with a markedly pop ease, Haplo is lustrous and immensely play on repeatable, though everywhere filled with the pangs and rumbles of an unsettled subconscious.
Whether in the studio or on stage, Twin Limb always play facing each other, intently and intimately, as if mixing their tones together in a large cauldron at their center. Their instrumentation blends in large billows of melody, in which the listener can hardly distinguish a guitar from percussion or an accordion from a human voice. You hear only, as they would have it, a "giant cosmic organ" enveloping you in a buoyant, lasting, three dimensional sound. Like a thunderstorm on a summer night, a warm euphony is pummeled by distant drumming and periodically shaken by intrusions of strange noises and a nearly unrecognizable guitar. Lacey Guthrie and Maryliz Bender's vocals forge ahead into the darkness, with words and courage that somehow rouse you to follow.
Whether they enter by procession as on " Long Shadow" and " Red Sun¨" like an incoming steam ship on " LUCA" and " Sutro Baths¨" or – as with " Sara" and "Blood Orange" – like a rowboat drifting under a starry sky, their every song pulls you into a cavernous world that is partly memory and partly fantasy. True to their Surrealist colors, they prefer their listeners to populate the music with their own meanings. The lyrics tease but never tack down. They impart emotional force but draw few detailed pictures. And for that reason, even first time listeners are forewarned: their hearts might crack open on songs like " Sara" and " Aine" as they uncannily recognize some passage from their own life, with all its ardor and pathos, read into the music as if it were a crystal ball. In its gentle dive into a subconscious realm, Haplo goes in search of those deeper, darker places where we all ultimately connect.