Winged Wheel

The sophomore album from Winged Wheel expands in sound and assemblage, pushing their smudged indie into a more more monolithic stature. The band adds two members to their ranks, filling out a stacked deck that already contained members of Spray Paint, Tyvek, Powers/Rolin Duo, and Matchess with high profile members of Water Damage and Sonic Youth. The band’s first record clipped from the ether and elusiveness of Flying Saucer Attack, Grouper, and Cul De Sac. The sophomore effort doesn’t shy away from those touchstones but delves deeper into the rhythmic gaze of the ‘80s and ‘90s. With a deep bench of drummers, the heavy hammer of percussion becomes a focus on Big Hotel. The songs tack into the tempest, full of angry amplifiers, feedback, froth, and obfuscation, but the constant pound of the drums pulls the listener out of the fog track after track.

Whitney Johnson remains windswept in her delivery, buried into the mix with nods to Adorable and Chapterhouse. While Shoegaze has found it’s audience in younger listeners, few new bands have been able to harness the tattered winds and icy demeanor of the originators, but Winged Wheel dip into the din like kindred spirits and dedicated scholars of the whirlpool’s pulse. Synths kick in a bit of faded neon flicker to the record, balancing the bleached aesthetics with a nighttime flash of color and chaos. The band’s first record wound through the mists, more akin to the murky works of Liz Harris, but on Big Hotel they’re ready to revel in the light, ready to turn turbulence into bliss. Shoegaze acolytes come and go, but rarely does a record feel like it may have something to teach the class of ’91.

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