La Luz

“I was in a dream, but now I can see that change is the only law.”

With a creed inspired by science fiction writer Octavia E. Butler, a title taken from a collection of metaphysical poetry and a new awareness triggered by a personal crisis, guitarist and singer-songwriter Shana Cleveland learns to embrace a changing world with unconditional love in “News of the Universe,” the new album by California rock band La Luz.

“News of the Universe” was born out of calamity: it is a work of dark and fascinating psychedelia that reflects the experience of Cleveland, whose world was shattered by a breast cancer diagnosis he received just two years after the birth of his son. It is also a portrait of a band in transformation: it is the first album with drummer Audrey Johnson, and the last with two historical members, bassist Lena Simon and keyboardist Alice Sandahl, whose presence lends a bittersweet tone to an album that is both an elegy of an old world and a cosmic map to a new and unknown one.

But is there a band better suited than La Luz to capture the chaos of change in its messy beauty? Founded by Cleveland in 2012, La Luz is beloved for its ability to balance disorder and harmony, each new album a further fine-tuning of the mix of confident riffs and angelic vocals that draw from doo-wop and folk. Such a consistently good band that “News of the Universe,” with its new confidence and musicality, is even more impressive.

What lurks in the shadows of News of the Universe is nothing less than death.
“There are moments in this album that sound to me like frantic confession before an asteroid destroys the Earth,” Cleveland says.

Sonically, the record is pure urgency. The songs stumble over each other, as if trying to escape the apocalypse. The synthetic sounds of the last record La Luz (2021), which mimicked the summer hum of the countryside, now seem to be scattered in space: comet tails, stardust, celestial showers.

The earthy observations included in the record stem from Cleveland’s walks around the house in the dazed days after his diagnosis, when he had to pay attention to what he was absorbing.
“Seeing the cycle of life, seeing things grow from decomposition-from the decomposition of other living things-was very reassuring to me. I had to get to a point where I was more comfortable with the idea of death,” he says.

But every moment of fear is matched by one of pure ecstasy.

The deep openness that permeates News of the Universe is also due to the fact that it was made entirely by women-from performance to writing, production to recording, and mastering.
“There is something inherently sweet and brutal at the same time about femininity,” Cleveland says. “It’s something I feel in this record.”

Shameless in vulnerability, fearless in femininity, and decidedly triumphant, News of the Universe is another outstanding record from a band so brilliant that it has perhaps been underestimated in its ability to innovate: women in the indie scene charting a path all their own, following their own artistic star to galaxies beyond musical fads, guided by a genuine faith in the cosmic power of love and a great riff. Never more so than on this album, which is perhaps La Luz’s most brutal – but also its most ecstatic.

“I was in a dream, but now I can see that change is the only law.”

With a creed inspired by science fiction writer Octavia E. Butler, a title taken from a collection of metaphysical poetry and a new awareness triggered by a personal crisis, guitarist and singer-songwriter Shana Cleveland learns to embrace a changing world with unconditional love in “News of the Universe,” the new album by California rock band La Luz.

“News of the Universe” was born out of calamity: it is a work of dark and fascinating psychedelia that reflects the experience of Cleveland, whose world was shattered by a breast cancer diagnosis he received just two years after the birth of his son. It is also a portrait of a band in transformation: it is the first album with drummer Audrey Johnson, and the last with two historical members, bassist Lena Simon and keyboardist Alice Sandahl, whose presence lends a bittersweet tone to an album that is both an elegy of an old world and a cosmic map to a new and unknown one.

But is there a band better suited than La Luz to capture the chaos of change in its messy beauty? Founded by Cleveland in 2012, La Luz is beloved for its ability to balance disorder and harmony, each new album a further fine-tuning of the mix of confident riffs and angelic vocals that draw from doo-wop and folk. Such a consistently good band that “News of the Universe,” with its new confidence and musicality, is even more impressive.

What lurks in the shadows of News of the Universe is nothing less than death.
“There are moments in this album that sound to me like frantic confession before an asteroid destroys the Earth,” Cleveland says.

Sonically, the record is pure urgency. The songs stumble over each other, as if trying to escape the apocalypse. The synthetic sounds of the last record La Luz (2021), which mimicked the summer hum of the countryside, now seem to be scattered in space: comet tails, stardust, celestial showers.

The earthy observations included in the record stem from Cleveland’s walks around the house in the dazed days after his diagnosis, when he had to pay attention to what he was absorbing.
“Seeing the cycle of life, seeing things grow from decomposition-from the decomposition of other living things-was very reassuring to me. I had to get to a point where I was more comfortable with the idea of death,” he says.

But every moment of fear is matched by one of pure ecstasy.

The deep openness that permeates News of the Universe is also due to the fact that it was made entirely by women-from performance to writing, production to recording, and mastering.
“There is something inherently sweet and brutal at the same time about femininity,” Cleveland says. “It’s something I feel in this record.”

Shameless in vulnerability, fearless in femininity, and decidedly triumphant, News of the Universe is another outstanding record from a band so brilliant that it has perhaps been underestimated in its ability to innovate: women in the indie scene charting a path all their own, following their own artistic star to galaxies beyond musical fads, guided by a genuine faith in the cosmic power of love and a great riff. Never more so than on this album, which is perhaps La Luz’s most brutal – but also its most ecstatic.
After all this-how could it not be?