Had life turned out differently, Adam Granduciel could have been a brilliant filmmaker.
The frontman/mastermind behind Philadelphia rock outfit The War on Drugs is something of a musical auteur. He sees the world — and creates his musical visions — in widescreen and Technicolor, yet has an eye for the finer details and an ear for the internal dialogue that makes up the emotional heartbeat of somebody’s story. The band’s latest, “Lost in the Dream,” is one of the finest things you’ll hear all year, a record that recalls the anthemic charge of classic rock while coloring outside the lines with an indie-rock palette.
“Lost in the Dream” is album No. 3 for a band formed and forged by Granduciel and the now-departed Kurt Vile, who has garnered attention over the past half-decade for his similarly hazy solo records. As on past efforts, Granduciel’s affection for some of rock’s most revered singer-songwriters is evident: Bob Dylan, Bruce Springsteen, Tom Petty and Mark Knopfler all poke their heads around his great wall of sound. Yet, The War on Drugs’ output never feels derivative; rather, it preaches the same gospel of those influences in a fresh, inspired way.
Made, reportedly, in the wake of a breakup, “Lost in the Dream” sounds like Granduciel coming out on the other side of Springsteen’s “Tunnel of Love,” adjusting his eyes to the light and trying to make sense of how to float on. The record goes from vulnerable to fearless and back again in a way that’s romantic yet real.
“Under the Pressure” starts the album, all skittering rhythms and shimmering guitar glow. The tune soon opens up into a propulsive pop groove, Granduciel bending his phrases like Dylan and beckoning listeners to come along and consider their own hopes and dreams, whether winning or wasted. The deep pull and peal of a saxophone lends a smooth, warm resonance before Granduciel drives the tune into greater intensity, pumping out his blurry- and bleary-eyed prophecies.
“Red Eyes,” the record’s first single and arguably its most fully formed track, follows. A chugging rock feel is framed by sweeping synths and chiming guitar licks. Like many of Granduciel’s songs, “Red Eyes” swells and stirs as if it wants to break loose from some sort of shackles. That moment of unrestrained freedom comes nearly two minutes in when he lets out a wild whoop, as if he has found a place of artful abandon.
Elsewhere, “An Ocean In Between the Waves” allows for other sunburst moments as Granduciel fits a ringing guitar-hero solo and verses that waver between idealism and realism over steadily moving currents. “Burning” has a distinct Springsteen vibe, making the most of simple but compelling phrases, while the gliding title track settles into a quiet, lovely jangle and whir.
Songs range anywhere from three to nine minutes in length; part of Granduciel’s genius is that extended cuts such as “Under the Pressure” and jagged, gorgeous album closer “In Reverse” seem to breeze by — you don’t want them to ever end — whereas he takes his time, so to speak, on shorter, slower jams such as “The Haunting Idle,” stretching notes and moods over a smaller span.
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