Luna Parade ’s second release since their name change from Myles Vincent is a lateral move along the strict 1980s late-new-wave parallel established on their early 2009 single Far Too Young.
The six new tunes on La Luna Corsa give Gen Y their best opportunity yet to revive some of the clunkiest white dance moves unseen for a quarter of a century. Tracks like Proposal and Gunfire have what it takes to force awkward shapes from newbie boppers whose limbs and hips will involuntarily respond.
It’s the standout track from a love-it-or-hate-it disc. Not far behind is At Dawn When She Came, which has all the pace and spark missing from both tracks on their last release. Ditto for On & On.
Once again the era’s sound signatures are superbly recreated. The opener Cult Film nails Phil Collins’ drum sound and the Edge’s echo-laden melodies within the first 20 seconds. Synth sounds abound. Likewise, faithful blending of period-perfect arrangements and progressions recall global new-wavers like A Flock of Seagulls and Aussie counterparts Real Life, even straying into the territory of Mondo Rock (see Close To You).
Such is the accuracy of their recreation, there’s a deep and abiding impression that originality and depth (along with any trace of the band’s personality) have been carefully combed from the tracks to ensure victory of form over content. As a deliberate move, this masterstroke would make perfect sense of Luna Parade’s 2009 output.
Don’t mistake this for a trashing of La Luna Corsa. Far from it. Taken on its own terms, this EP succeeds. Easily. In writing, production and performance, this is a close genre study that deserves full marks. But outside the narrow context of replication, it’s hard not to search for reasons to explain a talented band’s desire to record a disc so divisively and flawlessly derivative. They deliver it so earnestly that you sense their hearts are very much in it and irony very much isn’t. But why would Luna Parade insist on taking a 1980s fetish this far without improving things even a lick?
Intent aside, the divisiveness is clear; anyone hearing this disc will fall into one of two camps.
The first and most likely to swoon are the tweens, teens and twenties who might eat this up for what it is: the perfect facsimile of music that defined a decade, which could impact as hard now as it did then, for the same reasons. To this crew it’s mostly all new territory.
The second camp are the slightly plumper and more wrinkled souls who lived through the first go-round and will either be overcome with twisted nostalgic urges or will wonder how a whole scene based on hairstylists with instruments could come back to haunt them.
It seems the difference between downloading original 80s new wave hits from bands long gone (which may be a better option) and latching onto Luna Parade’s current take is that you can experience the gigs. Seeing them nail these tracks live has to be the vital element. Nostalgia – even nostalgia in absentia – is never as good as living through the real thing, which is what Luna Parade and their followers are doing right now. Join them if you will.
La Luna Corsa will be launched at The Amplifier Bar on October 10.
