If with his corresponding debut we were left with a certain trace of indifference or disinterest, The Arcs they seem to have read between the lines, judging by the intensity offered in their wonderful second work, and decide to redeem their proposal with “Electrophonic Chronic”. Dan Auerbach knows what he’s doing, and the way in which he acts as a catalyst between his unbeatable references and the current sound allows us to be talking about an album marked by a most interesting retro-futuristic intention, giving us tracks that show the ability to sound familiar from the first listen, dancing with that ambivalence between yesterday and today in an elegant, emotional and colorful game of mirrors. The lightness with which the different and exquisite stylistic influences of the band come together does not exempt them from presenting us with a powerful and elaborate speech, capable of agitating us with pure euphoria, sedating us with a sophisticated calm or moving us to tears. And it is that, although it has rained a lot since “Yours, Dreamily” (Nonesuch, 15), most likely no other event has marked the current discourse of this North American group as much as the irreparable loss of Richard Swift in 2018, who was the drummer of the group and who, in some way, continues to be emotionally present in some of the main features of the album (in fact, on its cover we see a lighter with the word “Swift” written on it, casting the shadow of what appears to be the grim reaper).
“Electrophonic Chronic” lays the foundations of its tone, warm and sensual, from its first cut with “Keep On Dreamin’”, a vitalist and passionate ode that emerges among sweet arrangements of seventies soul, loaded to the brim with candor and libido, that little or nothing will subside in “Eyez”, a particularly torrid flirtation with the most psychedelic R&B destined directly to melt our hearts. If with these two contributions we had not become soft enough yet, we must be prepared for what is coming our way, because The Arcs formalize their personal tribute to their now-defunct bandmate with “Heaven Is A Place”a launch into orbit of himself who is fired along what is most likely the most electronic track in his repertoire, and which evolves until it derives in a series of progressive Pinkfloydian solos that will give our goosebumps under those drowned lines what are they about “Heaven is a place, I know, where all the lovers go”.
Although the record grants punctual and radiant truces (like that “Sunshine”, that could perfectly belong on an album by The Black Keys), this second album by The Arcs becomes strong in the development of dreamy and meditative ballads that are constantly referring us to the love of life, either taking Helene Smith’s classic to his ground “A Woman Will Do Wrong” with a letter that they find colorful to their desires, or with “Love Doesn’t Live Here Anymore”, whose title per se, its ecclesiastical organ arrangements and Auerbach’s tonal talent manage to transport us definitively to the seventies. A marvelous and generous sound regression, refined and careful not to go too retro, which finds its coherence in a very successful selection of genres that are always a guarantee of success. The best? The band has nearly eighty more recorded songs in the pipeline, so surely we won’t have to wait another eight years to enjoy their next project.