Luna: Romantica

For a purveyor of detached cool like Luna's Dean Wareham, writing an album of lovey-dovey (and sometimes even sexy) songs had to present something of a challenge. Sadly, Wareham and his band weren't entirely up to it. Romantica, Luna's sixth studio record, finds it stuck in a rut it started digging around the time of 1997's Pup Tent, and a new lyrical slant can't extract it. The New York group's first three albums (Lunapark, Bewitched, and Penthouse) were so extraordinary that it's frustrating that its last three haven't been: Romantica plays the same game as its two immediate predecessors, but with diminishing returns. Though it's rotated members through the years, Luna has maintained its Velvet Underground-via-the-indie-underground sound, and that's most of its problem. The band has worked with different notable producers (Romantica was mixed by Dave Fridmann, of Mercury Rev and Flaming Lips fame), but none seem to have effected much change: "Black Postcards" gets a bit slinky, and "Black Champagne" uses some fine disco synthesizers, but the songs remain the same. That's not to say there aren't good ones on Romantica. "Mermaid Eyes," Wareham's duet with new bassist Britta Phillips (who provided the singing voice of cartoon rocker Jem), is a pleasant diversion, while the token rocker "1995" shakes some dust off the proceedings and "Renée Is Crying" couples cute lyrics with a Joe Meek-styled guitar solo. The most notable change in Luna's sound on Romantica—the only notable change, really—isn't necessarily a positive one: The band's tendency to push songs into VU-like guitar jams is largely missing, and in a manner that's almost too obvious. Several songs that seem ready to launch into the six-minute Lunasphere of old (particularly "Swedish Fish" and "Black Champagne") simply fade out before they get going. It's a shame, because Romantica isn't bad; it's just another average album by a band that has proved it can make great ones.