Lunar‘s 2022 album, The Illusionist, wore in plain theater the uninspiring portrait of a magician from renowned artist Travis Smith. The album itself, full of virtuosic performances and promise of high concept, delivered little, a stark reflection of its cover and a reminder that some visions will always read more promising than their execution. Tempora Mutantur comes to us with a different vision, though, rooted in a weathered rebirth that promises a more tangible expedition than its predecessor. As a patchwork ensemble centered around a few fixed members, Lunar have always seemed to be chasing a cohesive vision. Where sleights of hand have given way to frosted and fixed landscapes, has Tempora Mutantur crystallized the Lunar sound in proggy bliss?
Though times have changed, Tempora Mutantur hasn’t done much to stray Lunar from a bouncy, progressive rock sound that weaves in and out of thrashy death metal aggression. A quirky funk pervades the introductory stride of “A Summer to Forget,” right down to the power chord strut that recalls the similarly playful energy of a grooving Faith No More lick. But the Lunar penchant for theatrical strolling around Queen-like guitar flamboyance remains as present as ever, tempering mosh-ready skanks and frenzied soloing with kick-line ready rhythms and flamboyant guitar bends (“Fall Back into Old Habits”, “Spring in My Step”). Lunar have no problem conjuring whimsy at will, with Primus-y poppin’ bass asides (“Fall Back into Old Habits”) and blue-eyed soul vocal attitude bringing a lightness and flair that provide an easy memory attachment. But saddled in between deathly runs that build to little and proggy growths that serve as compositional flexes, Tempora Mutantur doesn’t find an interconnected stretch of songs until the closing suite of three.
It’s hard to say exactly where Lunar could lean to wear their eclectic sound with a more imprinting boldness. Most of the steps they take down a prog path twist about a showtunes-y croon until fizzling away in a cut-in solo or unfitting death metal sidebar. Every thrashy setup Lunar swings ends in a whiff down an intentionally jarring and jostling progventure. Staying in one lane does not seem to be the Lunar way, which makes enjoying their talents difficult. Between vibrant keyboard play, enthusiastic shredding, and turn-on-a-dime rhythms, Tempora Mutantur should hold a lot of reasons to stimulate my metal-loving brain. But like the snow at winter’s finale, its end can’t come fast enough.
