The cover of Neon Indian's newest album "Vega Intl. Night School." (Photo from Neon Indian's website).Jared Chestnut - Blaze Radio DJredc@uab.edu
It’s been upwards of four years since Alan Palomo’s Neon Indian released its last album, Era Extraña, a fun, warm little slice of electro-pop goodness that dealt with matters of the heart and featured arcade blues. Since then, it’s been a journey that has included stolen equipment and tracks, treks across Mexico and TED talks about great film producers, composers and their influences on his work as an “auteur.” Along the way, the groundwork for “Vega Intl. Night School” was being laid, and at the tail end of 2015, the project finally broke through to see the light of day. Turns out the album is every bit as quirky and cool as the trek that preceded it.
The best way to sum up “Vega Intl. Night School” would be to imagine some alternate Earth where the nightclubs litter the streets like Starbucks on every corner, the sidewalks filled with cheap suits and dresses, cheaper perfume and grimy dark alleys. Think Five Points without that awesome cookie shop.
You cross the city limits as the opener “Hit Parade” begins stuttering forward towards a “Homework”-era Daft Punk existence, however brief, before transitioning into first single “Annie,” which sounds like it stepped right out of Miami Vice by way of Diplo. This is followed by the distorted 80’s hip-hop beat of “Street Level,” feeling every bit at home as the pastel jackets and Trans-Am’s rolling down the avenue. “Smut” ends up feeling like a change of scene, that quick cut to another locale that slows things down a bit. That’s immediately taken to the other end by “Bozo” and “The Glitzy Hive,” injecting a bit of energy with some proper electro with a Hall & Oates twist to it. That’s carried through to “Dear Skorpio Magazine,” cheesy guitar solos marking interludes before the track fades out and things really start to get fun.
The middle of the album is without question the highlight of the show, a trilogy full of wholesale glitz and glamour that’s near impossible to tap a toe or bop your head to, starting with the single “Slumlord,” a disco-infused tale that feels as seedy and dangerous as that corner bar without a sign, and every bit as fun, “as long as you’ve got the money.” It’s as funky as anything this side of George Clinton’s mothership and might just be the coolest “shut up and dance” song of 2015. We’re interrupted by a French radio broadcast before returning to regularly scheduled programming with some edits to the script: “Slumlord’s Release.” The previously muted but inviting beat and 80’s synths grow grimy and dark, the chants grow louder and everything builds before coming back down for “Techno Clique,” which goes full on club with a thumping bass behind ethereal lyrics and the ebb and flow of a synthesizer.
After that bit of a thrill ride, “Baby’s Eyes” seeks to get us back on point, evoking some of the old Cannon action films of the 80’s. You could picture this in the background as a Bronson or Stallone-esque figure stands in the darkness glowering, his gaze set in the distance as he vows revenge for some wrong (perhaps they closed down his gym…). It suckers you in with more Wild Stallyns guitar before “C’est La Vie (say the casualties!)” throws you for a loop. Suddenly you’ve been transported to Thomas Dolby’s underground laboratory, vision impaired by mad science. More static kicks in, then “61 Cygni Ave.” cuts in, a sound that feels as distant and alien as the star system the song’s named for. Finally, “News From the Sun (live bootleg)” is the ending credits to send it all home, Palomo doing a “Prince minus a few octaves” impression with chunky bass and tinny snare ambling along behind as the album slowly plays its way out.
On its own merits, “Vega Intl. Night School” may well be one of the most complete albums of the past year, possibly further. Short of its ending, there really doesn’t seem to be a weak song front to back, and there’s such a variation in style and feel that you never really get lulled into a pattern of complacency. It stands as such a shift from Neon Indian’s previous work while feeling so much more ambitious, almost as if, for all the grease and grime the new album picked up, it was still aiming for the stars. If nothing else, “Vega Intl. Night School” deserves a sequel to see if Palomo can surpass even that lofty goal.
