Cloudland Canyon is a band that has seemingly been around forever, remaining constantly in the periphery, yet never quite making much of an impression on me with their reverb-drenched, chameleonic psych/krautrock revivalism.  I always saw them as an almost-good band of people with great record collections who were a bit too self-conscious, over-meticulous, and reverent to fully realize their potential.  On this, improbably only their third album since forming in 2002, they have cleverly punched-up their sound with a lot of fun ‘80s-style electronic grooves, resulting in something unexpectedly resembling a Chris & Cosey/Panda Bear mash-up at times.  That admittedly innovative aesthetic still does not click entirely for me, but the handful of songs that lean heaviest on hooks and retro-dance grooves are quite good.  And some of the other ones are even better.
Cloudland Canyon’s Kip Ulhorn is a rather unique artist, seemingly part gear fetishist, part chameleon, part studio wonk, and part endless jam session.  Given that precarious balance, it actually seems somewhat surprising that Cloudland Canyon have finished any albums at all: it is immediately obvious from the opening "Where’s the Edge" that An Arabesque was a Herculean effort for a two person band to assemble.  Thankfully, Kip and Kelly Ulhorn managed to enlist a bewildering murderer's row of collaborators this time around to ease some of the burden (though I suspect Kip probably still spent months of his life overdubbing, piecing together, and processing tracks).  Returning to fold once more is Spacemen 3 alum Sonic Boom, but he is joined by a number of other folks ranging from the ubiquitous M. Geddes Gengras to former members of Flaming Lips, LCD Soundsystem, and even Big Star(!).  If that is not enough, the cover art was done by a fellow (Brian Roettinger) who was nominated for a Grammy and has worked with Jay Z.  Sadly, Jay Z himself does not appear anywhere in the credits, but that might just be because his record label put their foot down.  While no one involved seems to be credited with anything specific, I think it is probably safe to say that ex-Flaming Lip Kliph Scurlock quickly makes his appearance known with the wild live drumming in the otherwise throbbingly motorik opener.  The rest of the guests tend to generally be well-hidden behind a battery of analog synthesizers throughout the album.
An Arabesque is very conspicuously front-loaded with all of its best songs, which I suppose is very convenient on vinyl.  Krautrock homage "Where’s the Edge?" aside, however, the Ulhorns cover some unexpected territory on the album’s first half.  For example, the Kelly-sung "Try Faking It" is a near-perfect dose of early '90s synthpop: all throbbing and burbling synths, an insistent groove, and some fine reverb-drenched vocal hooks.  The gorgeous title piece, on the other hand, is a dreamy, bubbling, and radiant concoction of hazy dual vocals and expertly manipulated dynamics.  Also, there is some well-used saxophone that further ensures that I feel like I just discovered an incredible deep cut on a forgotten New Romantic album.  The ends start to fray a bit with "Faulting Fate," however.  Just about every song on An Arabesque sounds like a great vamp that has been fleshed out until it feels like a song, but "Fate" feels like the Ulhorns almost forgot to get around to writing a hook to go with their fat, propulsive synth groove and hoped that enough reverb would hide that.  Fortunately, there is a cool bridge where the piece finally comes together beautifully.  The rest of the album does not offer any similar last-minute songcraft surprises, sadly, but the three remaining pieces still boast some legitimate flashes of inspiration.  The best of the lot is "Staying Awake," which sounds like a great Jesus & Mary Chain song that had all of its instrumentation replaced with just burbling sequencer arpeggios, shimmering synth swells, and a booming kick drum.
The obvious critique that can be leveled against An Arabesque (and Cloudland Canyon in general) is that it is quite derivative, albeit in a free-floating, "anything goes" kind of way.  The Ulhorns are definitely a pair that is not at all shy about displaying their influences, but I actually do not mind in their case.  They push all the right nostalgia buttons here and offer more than enough energy and well-crafted hooks to make it work.  A much more significant issue is the overuse of reverb on vocals, as it tends to blur them into just another instrument.  That works in some cases, but it definitely creates distance and has a negative impact presence-wise.  A very vocal-centric song like "Psychic Instant," for example, would work a hell of a lot better if the vocals were not reduced to kind of a soft-focus haze.  Yet another issue is that most of Cloudland Canyon's songs clearly originate from jams and they sometimes fail to mask that.  It would not matter so much if they had a white-hot rhythm section or some incendiary solos, but it does matter when it is just a twinkling synth motif over a straightforward beat.  That can get very dull without strong hooks.  "Rebuilding Capture" is a solid example, as it is basically a one-note motorik groove with vocals that have been flanged into robotic oblivion.  Thankfully, it does not completely fall flat due to some very spirited drumming and steadily escalating atmospheric enhancements, but it is nevertheless the weakest piece on the album (excluding the flickering 40-second-long instrumental closer).  Of course, all of that grumbling is basically about Cloudland Canyon sounding exactly like Cloudland Canyon, which misses a key point: An Arabesque captures them firing all cylinders and is one of the best possible manifestations of their sound that I could hope for.  There a lot of excellent songs here and very few weak ones (and the title track is pure heaven).
 
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