If I have learned one thing from following Barn Owl's career, it is that I will never know exactly what to expect from them.  On this, their second full-length for Thrill Jockey, they return to "rock" mode following the drone-based detour of the excellent Shadowland EP. Happily, Jon Porras and Evan Caminiti have evolved quite a bit in that realm since Ancestral Star, showing much more focus and an increased talent for dual guitar interplay. They sound more uniquely "Barn Owl" now too.  I still prefer their more abstract long-form work, but there are enough inspired passages here to stop me from grumbling much.
Lost In The Glare feels like it was definitely created with live performance in mind, as most of these eight pieces are simple enough to be plausibly recreated by the duo without the assistance of looping, backing tracks, or additional musicians.  There are some exceptions though–for example, several songs (like the lurching and jangling "Turiya") are enlivened and adrenalized by the doom-y, slow-motion beats of guest drummer Jacob Felix Heule.  Also, multi-instrumentalist Michael Elrod (The Alps, Date Palms) plays a pretty conspicuous role on a few occasions, most notably with his tampura playing on the droning, ritualistic, and forlorn "Devotion I."  The main focus, however, is definitely on the guitars.  Most of the songs are essentially vamps, as one guitarist lays down an appropriately moody chord progression while the other plays a sustain-heavy solo or weaves a beguiling web of clean arpeggios.  There are some marked improvements to that formula this time around though: these songs all manage to maintain a fairly constant brooding mood, evoking images of darkening skies and long, lonely expanses of plains and deserts.  Also, the simplicity of the pieces is deceptive, as Porras and Caminiti intertwine the various elements in a remarkably organic and intuitive way.  It is the minor details, textures, and flourishes that make this album compelling.
Nevertheless, Lost in the Glare is not without some frustrating moments (though they are few).  For example, I could definitely do without the regressive Sunn o)))-style distortion-worship that consumes half of "The Darkest Night Since 1683."  I can understand why it is included, as some conventional heaviness is a nice counterbalance to all the finger-picking and e-bowing happening everywhere else, but it still seems a bit ham-fisted and out of place.  The roiling outro to "Devotion II" is much more successful, as it feels both well-earned and appropriately climactic for the end of such a slow-burning album.  Also, I still vastly prefer the band's denser, dronier side, but that is more of a personal leaning rather than a failing on the band's part.  Guitar solos just aren't for me.  Minor kvetching aside, however, this is a damn good album–Porras and Caminiti have created a coherent work of desolate grandeur here that ensures their continued place near the top of the instrumental/post-rock heap.
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