As old members drop out and new members fill the vacant spots by
Bobby Hecksher's side,
the Warlocks' family tree grows larger with every album. Even after the departure of drummer Jason Anchondo -- the longest running member behind
Hecksher and the only other musician credited on the last album,
Heavy Deavy Skull Lover --
The Mirror Explodes sounds quite similar to its successor. You could even think of this album as a "Heavy Deavy, Pt. 2," which may seem strange since
the Warlocks are now a completely reworked five-piece with three guitar players. The fact that newcomers Rees, McBride, Risher, and Mustachio haven't affected the direction just serves as proof that
Hecksher is the true mastermind behind the group; a puppetmaster who directs the action in the same way that
Billy Corgan commands all of the
Smashing Pumpkins' material, or how
Anton Newcombe directly controls
the Brian Jonestown Massacre (a band that
Hecksher was a part of, incidentally).
Newcombe and
Hecksher share a few common traits, actually. As well as a nearly uncountable list of past bandmates, they both have an affinity for Brit-pop and shoegaze, which
Newcombe illustrated wonderfully on
My Bloody Underground. Referencing
My Bloody Valentine,
the Velvet Underground, and (more so than ever)
the Jesus and Mary Chain,
The Mirror Explodes is a lot like
My Bloody Underground, with vast layers of whirling, reverberated, whisper-soft vocals buried under trebly guitar buzz and monotonous grooves of bass and drums. Engineer
Rod Cervera deserves credit for maintaining a consistent sound between the albums, but where
Heavy Deavy Skull Lover had an uneven quality, and played like one long singular-sounding composition startled with big, stoner rock grooves, the songs here all sound very samey. Not to say it's an easy listen. It's a dark one, and many songs lose themselves in sleepy, drawn-out droning. However, extended jams should be nothing new to those well-versed in the
Warlocks catalog, and the hot spots are excellent tracks that capitalize on
Hecksher's newfound affinity for creamy wistfulness. "The Midnight Sun," "There Is a Formula to Your Despair," and "Static Eyes" all continue the feel of the last record's standout, "So Paranoid," and similarly, rekindle the warm, washy spirits of
Ride's "Vapor Trail" and
Galaxie 500's "Blue Thunder." No easy feat. ~ Jason Lymangrover