David Lynch - The Big Dream

As with his legendary directing career, nothing is straightforward on David Lynch’s second album. ‘The Big Dream’ is the follow-up to 2011’s ‘Crazy Clown Time’, and it sees Lynch further exploring this relatively new-found outlet for his singularly oblique tendencies. And while that debut was an intriguing diversion, this is his musical vision shaped into a starker, more richly defined whole.

Unsurprisingly, it’s a very strange record. It’s a collection of 13 malevolent laments; songs which are rich in imagery but short on tenderness and empathy. He’s not operating as a traditional song writer: his music is atmospheric and free-form while his strangulated, reedy voice splutters out a stream of consciousness. The menacing tone is established immediately on the lumbering, portentous lurch of the title track. The music is reminiscent of Portishead’s work on ‘Third’ in its scratchy, primitive beats. Lynch’s voice is an eerie spectral presence as he allusively declares: “The time has come to say the words we want to hear.”

Much of the songs are based around spoken word rambling monologues, appositely reminiscent of film dialogue. Lynch himself seems to be playing distinct characters on every song, and the effect is often wonderfully creepy; there’s a perverse joy to be hand in the way his pronouncement of “last call, time gentleman please” on the stuttering beat-laden ‘Last Call’. The brooding menace continues throughout the album as it proceeds through a range of primitive styles flitting from a country shuffle to a Cramps-like rockabilly dirge.

There are precious little moments of beauty to be heard, as Lynch excels in creating an atmosphere and an enveloping vibe rather than prompting real emotion. The album’s concluding tracks offer a very welcome light at the end of the tunnel. ‘Are You Sure’ is a comforting, graceful waltz, and the presence of Lykke Li on ‘I’m Waiting Here’ offers a much needed alternative voice to Lynch’s queasy growl.

‘The Big Dream’ is entirely in keeping with all of David Lynch’s previous work; at times, it is deeply sinister and often quite unpleasant, but it’s a compelling unpleasantness, one that draws you in and transfixes you. An intriguing album befitting of a fascinating man.