Into the viscous northwest - beyond the poplars - no service - terrains ripped to pieces - artificial light is a memory - the retina opens wide to catch a silhouette meandering down a dark gravel road. It’s one of us - called back to the land, yearning for symbiosis. The impossible air of a failure fading - ambitions spent - the picture of success has fallen from the frame. No more divide and destroy - already slaughtered in sunshine - chaos drowned in the waves of memories wake. We built this world then covered it all in rain.

Heartless Call, the second offering from DELUJN, compelled by a casually embarrassing bass riff and an audaciously fried rhythm, glittering guitars mimic horns & swell in the muted light of summers end, pulsing & prodding in a sunken world that suggests Felt, Sebastien Tellier, Cate LeBon, MGMT or Michael Rother. Something so familiar is at work here, an ice-blue orb of scenic reserve, genre bent and adventurous, instead of purist or old-world. There are so many groups trafficking grief but most stray into a defeatism that leave listeners even more flattened; John Skloves words are startling genuine, asking for help isn’t a weakness, his generosity of spirit is saying something about our communal experiences, that we're all inherently flawed just by virtue of being human. A testament to what happens when awareness and reason somehow survive a turbulent adulthood. Leisurely tempos, bittersweet moods and planetary melodies move us through these first-class emotions, trifling in ways that seem quintessentially scruffy and pacific rimmed.