Album Review: Beachwood Sparks - The Tarnished Gold

When LA quartet Beachwood Sparks first floated onto the scene at the start of the millennium, their cruisy cosmic country and laidback, harmony-laden Laurel Canyon-inspired rock seemed somewhat out of time, even as their two albums earned them plenty of plaudits and acclaim. Now in this era where acts like Bon Iver and Fleet Foxes have reignited interest in slightly out-there Americana, it's a perfect time for the estranged outfit to reunite – not to suggest that their music (now or then) mirrors any of these acts, because Beachwood Sparks are definitely their own beast, still owing far more to Gram Parsons than anyone like Grizzly Bear.

As a group of songs, their comeback album The Tarnished Gold (the first since 2001) pretty much meanders from beginning to end on a bed of strummed guitars, pedal steel and sweet harmonies with no apparent urgency – floating along with no existential angst or quest for higher meaning. It was recorded and produced by old foil Thom Monahan (The Pernice Brothers, Vetiver), who does a brilliant job make it soft and shiny, like a sparkling mirage always on the horizon but never quite in reach. There are numerous guests throughout, including Ariel Pink and Neal Casal of The Cardinals, but no one leaves an imprint that outshines the band.

Songs like Sparks Fly Again and Tarnished Gold meander by like a gentle stream, shimmering yet shallow, while Talk About Lonesome is jaunty enough to belie its title and Earl Jean summons the effortless majesty of Wilco at their most languid. Goodbye is, title aside, the perfect closer, mellow and stately and a totally fitting finale to this most welcome of returns.