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The Lunar Keys – Silent Ricochet

Describing themselves as “The Ramones meets U2 and David Bowie waking up with Arcade Fire” might be an ambitious move for Guildford four-piece The Lunar Keys, but it isn’t that far off the mark.

Though the band’s latest single “Silent Ricochet” lacks any sense of the ramshackle street punk made famous by The Ramones, harbouring flavours of Robert Smith much more than it does those of Joey Ramone, this matters little. In fact, had The Lunar Keys tried to start the song with “1,2,3,4!” or given up after learning just three chords, this would have been a different (read: much worse) song entirely.

Thankfully though, they didn’t. And what “Silent Ricochet” actually is, is four minutes of soaring, ambitious alt-rock that’s hits far more than it misses. Interested in the interplay between art and science, and war and oppression, this dichotomy is something that plays out across the track both lyrically, and sonically. The Cure-esque verses feel quiet and subdued, before blossoming into an optimistic and anthemic chorus.

So far, so stadium rock. But as “Silent Ricochet” progresses, it evolves into something more more three-dimensional; the introduction of a buzzsaw guitar, and a breakdown in its final quarter elevating it truly beyond the realms of alt-rock into something more much encompassing.

Of course, it isn’t without its foibles. The verses could feel fuller, and the bass which backbones them could feel bassier, but as a whole “Silent Ricochet” succeeds in exploring concepts and themes much deeper than its often bright and breezy exterior would have you believe.