The beguiling music of
Lilium certainly takes its time, maintaining as much room within its loosely rendered evocation of barren landscapes as they do space between album releases. Having started as an offshoot of Denver's gothic-country band
16 Horsepower, this side project has now become a primary focus -- along with
David Eugene Edwards'
Woven Hand -- after the dissolution of the original group on the heels of
Lilium's last release, 2003's
Short Stories. Clearly not rushed to get where he's going, guiding presence
Pascal Humbert helms a deliberately slow-moving, highly ruminative journey in which a lonely desert atmosphere permeates a weighty inner psyche. Considering the permanent retirement of longtime drummer and partner
Jean-Yves Tola, the cast
Humbert surrounds himself with on
Felt is different from last time, but fortunately still in tow are the enchanting, multilingual vocals of Kal Cahoone on several fine cuts, such as the disarmingly tender "Mama Bird." Cahoone's vocals fit in perfectly with the alternating songs sung by newcomer
Hugo Race, the former
Nick Cave accomplice and renowned Australian musician who contributes a certain weary gravitas reminiscent of
Leonard Cohen. Though similar in many aesthetic respects to its predecessor, the sound on
Felt is even more downbeat, anchored by gently winding guitar figures and restrained percussion, and frequently augmented by impeccable trumpet arrangements. So mesmerizing are these songs that, as they cast the audience under their spell, the music itself starts to feel like a force that is alive and breathing. The gripping finale "Believer" finds
Lilium at the peak of their powers as they collectively summon a brooding intensity on par with
Greg Dulli's
Twilight Singers, simultaneously building upon and easing off the preceding tracks using only a sparse template. There's plenty of drifting experimentation and unassuming invention found on the aptly named
Felt, and not a single wasted moment. ~ Ben Peterson