Dark Matter is Randy Newman's first studio album of all-new material since the 2008 release of his acclaimed
Harps and Angels, an acerbic take on the state of America that Rolling Stone called
"reason to wrap yourself in the flag and cheer." The ensuing years have proven Newman to be more prognosticator than mere commentator—his "
A Few Words in Defense of Our Country," its lyrics printed on the Op-Ed page of the New York Times in January 2007, seems even more relevant today, though by no means reassuring. On Dark Matter, Newman jumps right back into the fray, opening the disc with the grand "
The Great Debate" a nearly nine-minute opus that feels like the opening number of a zany musical, featuring scientists, religious zealots, and a gospel choir, arguing about the existence of evolution, dark matter, climate change, and religion. It includes a character who steps up to question the merits of a certain Mr. Randy Newman's songwriting gambits. It's by turns cynical and gleeful, and, in the end, true believers and skeptics alike surrender to the sheer musical joy of a catchy gospel coda, with no commitment of faith necessary.
As the album unfolds, it's clear that Newman isn't just going after the big targets, though he does dedicate a cheerfully bombastic tune to Vladimir Putin, conjuring up a choir of salacious "
Putin Girls" to extol the Russian leader's patriotism, his tractor-driving skills, and, of course, his impressive shirtless physique. But Newman's storytelling takes a more intimate, character-driven approach on much of Dark Matter. He imagines an Oval Office conversation between John Kennedy and his brother Bobby before the Bay of Pigs Invasion, in which JFK confesses a hitherto unreported love for Cuban singer Celia Cruz (and a concern for her safety). On "
Sonny Boy," he envisions the original Sonny Boy Williamson, up in heaven, recounting the true story of discovering that a younger blues musician had stolen his name and his tunes and rose to fame during the British invasion and well beyond. The characters in "
On the Beach" and "
Wandering Boy"—a surfer dude mired in the sand for life in the former, a father wistfully recalling his long absent son's promising younger years in the latter—are either trapped in the past or full of nostalgia.
Photo: Pamela Springsteen
Since their formation as teenagers 10 years ago, Lukas Nelson & Promise of the Real have quietly developed into one of America’s most dazzling new live acts, playing hundreds of shows and major festivals all over the world, attracting a deeply devoted underground following.
