Mojave 3 Puzzles Like You

The trek across Middle-America can prove to be quite an endeavour. For Neil Halstead and his associate pilgrims, it's been more than a decade drifting from the aural mirages inherent to Slowdive. With most of the Mojave members originating from the early nineties shoegaze movement, it was the foundation of steel guitar that marked Mojave 3 as a separate entity, their first album Ask Me Tomorrow a blistering amalgamation between the bands. Since then, they have transgressed into a sound not unlike the surreal, heartfelt pleas posed by the American desert. But after the overly sparse Spoon and Rafter sighed like a denouement to their attenuating legacy 3 yeas ago, their miraculous revamping on Puzzles Like You hits at their Americana with a fresh wrapping of pop tenure.

Historically worn on all their outings, Mojave's country-folk dress flaunts with an energetic bounce on the first notes of the album opener, Truck Driving Man. Contrary to their model blend, the exuberant guitar rolls into teetering top piano keys, frivolous synths and a carefree drum pitch that together create an insouciant air. Beginning with Halstead's first effervescent proclamation in the chorus: "Heart's on fire/He's back in control now," his pop tongue cues a stream of disclosures that prove to weave through the album in a refulgent mist.

The most effective compositions tend to nestle at the album's beginning and end, delving head first into the new Mojave pop arsenal. The second track Puzzles Like You is one of the highlights; drums climbing to little boastful blooms, stitched together with an airy glee of Hammond and handclaps. The subsequent Breaking the Ice vaunts similar decals of accelerating drum beats and high-key combinations, parading with fluid confidence between instrumentally muted breaks of lyrical sincerity. Ferociously riding the final stretch is To Hold Your Tiny Toes, punching hard until it laps into Just a Boy like Act II of a melodic circle.

Puzzles Like You travels with this brisk energy throughout, apart from a slight siesta on the mid-album tracks that brings to mind their intermediary works. Most Days rouses their humble trademark of steel whisks and gentle confessions, Rachel Goswell's voice affectionately playing its characteristic echo. You Said it Before musters a lingering charm around a tap dripping in the facade of a metronome; while Big Star Baby gets stuck as a bit of a benchwarmer, distilling the pungency of its melodies with its apathetic intention.

The album closes with The Mutineer, the only track on Puzzles not written by Halstead. Composed by drummer Ian McCutcheon and sung is his quiet grace, it solemnly plaudits Ian's modest talent while unassumingly complimenting Halstead's box of gems. Delicately enamoured with apologetic lyricisms, its solitude plays as a swan song and signs the album off with poise.

With the new pop disposition inherent on Puzzles Like You, one could propose that the aural desert landscapes that have become the trademark of Mojave 3 have transpired. Wrapped in their previously oh-so-avoided melodies, the resplendent synth crescendos, peppy licks, and intensifying drums on Puzzles Like You crack into jovial choruses with astounding aptitude. Perhaps this move was nothing but capricious, a mere vacation from heir life as nomads to flavour the coastal surge. After traipsing for years in the middle of the map, who knows when - and if - they'll go back.