Ostensibly the nom de plume of Michigan-born Ben Schneider, Lord Huron is also, like Blondie, a group: and a pretty darn fantastic group to boot. Following a brace of EPs, Lord Huron have tapped into the mythical psyche of an imaginary Western plainsman and crossed that with gamelan rhythms and chord sequences that seem to have been field-recorded in the Arabian Desert night. Schneider and his four hombres are all great harmony singers, but what’s more remarkable is the intricacy of their combined musical and production skill.
Consider: this album was made for a pittance. Starting with Ends Of The Earth and the epic cowboy lament Time To Run, the band constructs a seamless passage through songs that exist individually and as a suite. Ingenious drop-outs and fade-ins and the sheer Technicolor ambition of tracks such as the Morricone-esque The Man Who Lives Forever indicate Lord Huron will not only appeal to devotees of Robin Pecknold and Tim Smith, but also to chilled club crews looking for something that drapes electronic vision over dusty authenticity. Sounding classic on arrival, Lonesome Dreams is certainly the best album of its kind since Damien Jurado’s Maraqopa.