Pitchfork

For many long years, the name Flying Saucer Attack has been synonymous with ringing distortion, interstellar radio transmissions and bursts of sonic noise like crashing tides. Usually, a delicately-plucked acoustic can be distinguished underneath the dense layers of static. Around 1996, Rachel Brook departed, leaving only Dave Pearce to continue the Flying Saucer Attack legacy. Soon after, Pearce released New Lands, an album similar to its predecessors, but with no real sign of drive or inspiration. Surprisingly, just when it looked as though Flying Saucer Attack had done all they were capable of, the long-awaited Mirror is finally issued, restoring fans' faith in Dave Pearce's ability to record original music.

From straight out of left field, Flying Saucer Attack present their best album since 1995's Further. Sonically, it's Pearce's most accessible and melodic record to date, due largely to the fact that the levels seem to be switched-- on most previous outings, atmospheric feedback and buzzing dominated the mix while Dave Pearce sang quietly in the background; on Mirror, it's quite the opposite. Here, the songs are the main focus (as they should be), and the effects are pushed just below the surface.

Songwise, though, Pearce is still riding the same wave. His somber acoustic folk still recalls the gentle melancholy of Nick Drake, but for the first time, the melodies and lyrics can actually be clearly deciphered. Of course, the entire album isn't composed of simple folky musings-- that'd be boring! Pearce keeps it varied this time around, implementing actual percussion on a few of the numbers, and being generally inventive. Even when songs run past the eight minute mark, like the beautiful "Islands," they morph through distinct and attention-grabbing phases, beginning sparsely and building into spiraling crescendos of drug-addled bliss.

And speaking of drugs, how about that packaging?! Flying Saucer Attack albums have always been easily characterized by their vast stretches of flatland and other places uninhabited by humans. When I first saw the cover of Mirror, I honestly thought I was looking at a Grateful Dead reissue. And in place of liner notes is a blatantly hallucinogenic image of a psychedelic rainbow over a body of water, with creepy mutations of animals splashing about, and warped, gloopy flying saucers zooming past pink clouds. In a time when drugs are so revered by the hipster elite, it's good to see somebody living it up a little.

But the cover art isn't all that's changed for Flying Saucer Attack. On Mirror Pearce experiments with new sounds and genres. In between his standard spacy acoustic numbers, he also jumps on the electronic bandwagon (albeit a little late), fusing beats copped from drum-n-bass and hip-hop into the latter sections of the album. Interestingly, the track that benefits most noticeably from the newly-incorporated drum tracks is "River," which employs a basic rock beat that fuels a rare ethereal, distortion-soaked pop song.

If you're new to Flying Saucer Attack and are looking for a good introduction to their twisted world of mind-bending space-psych, Mirror is probably the place to start. As I said, it's easily the most accessible of the bunch. Of course, Further is still a more cohesive, better- orchestrated effort. You make the call. I'm just happy the guy's still creative.