The Raptor Trail 2016
With another orbit to scale, New Carolinian trio take their desperation to the stars and back to terra firma.
Jam might be the cosmic thing yet, cast as THE RAPTOR TRAIL now, these JUPITER COYOTE alumni report from their spaced-out route more concisely. Released less than a year after the band’s self-titled debut, “New World” is a strange melange of suburban ennui and out-of-here aspirations that may seem difficult to grasp but turns out to be gratifying, with the dry, if exquisite, acoustic finale of “Grace” summing it all up rather eloquently.
As the strum and twang propel opener “Four Times” towards the blues of event horizon, there’s heaviness to create gravity, but John Meyer and Matthew Mayes’ amassed voices shape more irresistible pull in “Going To Dublin” where twin guitars weave a folk-informed lace around funky riffs – an epic nod to THIN LIZZY and HORSLIPS. But while “Stone By Stone” is picking up the Eire theme in airy fashion, the filigree picking-cum-shredding in “Time Slides Onward” elegantly accumulates momentum for the molten “Wheel” to roll into celestial grandiosity.
That’s how the boredom of “Whoville” is lifted, with six-string harmonies wrapping a prog towel around it, whereas “The Fall” – meaning both season and rapid descent – offers a more aggressive, and nuanced, way out of it. Whether such an approach is an anchor tying the trio to Earth will be seen on their next record; as of now, the point of no return is out of reach yet.