If quality and quantity were mutually exclusive in pop(-rock) art, the first four albums from Elvis Costello (released from 1977 to 1980), the Ramones (1976 to 1978) and the Beatles (1963 to 1964) wouldn’t be such historic streaks. If Wand’s three indie-rock albums so far, released from August 2014 to September 2015, don’t and perhaps can’t reach the level of those pioneering back catalogs, they do share brevity, adventurousness and variety.
1000 Days, the successor to Ganglion Reef and Golem, also shares exploratory refinement: Wand can now take a little more time in the studio and can make somewhat more powerful use of that time. At 34 minutes, this is a brisk trip and, at 12 tracks, a full one.
And it is, like Wand’s previous long-player journeys, unmistakably psychedelic. “Grave Robber” leads off the tour by combining an airy synthesizer line and Cory Hanson’s floating voice, reminiscent of the Posies’ Ken Stringfellow at his lightest, into a Pied Piper lure toward everything that follows.
Many other temptations and seductions are heavier, in the “like, heavy, man” sense: Hanson’s grinding Sabbath guitar riffs on “Broken Sun,” the sudden lunges of “Paintings Are Dead,” or the tribal rhythms and instrumental moans that make up most of the four-minute, seven-second “Dovetail.”
With the support of drummer Evan Burrows and bassist Lee Landey, Hanson is inclined to wander yet disinclined to wander too far. Solos don’t last long; tempo and mood changes don’t license aimless jamming; and pastoral atmospheres don’t dilute graceful vocals until they’re just twee.
The focus, more intense than it feels or sounds, further separates Wand from many other current, lysergic rock bands. Its three albums represent a winning streak, although the band is more concerned with challenging itself than with conquering anyone else.
