Aussie psychedelic dream pop architects reach the peak of their prolific late career run with shockingly great tunes.

It’s an interesting time to be a fan of The Church. For a long time I kept things simple and only had their albums up through Heyday (1986). While I still prefer their early post-punk/psych/jangle pop phase, I did finally come around to Starfish (1988), and gradually started appreciating their 90s albums and beyond, though I’m still skeptical that Priest=Aura (1992) is a good as many superfans claim. They certainly played a significant role in their ethereal atmospherics being an influence on what eventually became known as dream pop. And for those who miss the post-punk fangs of their early work, and outstanding guitar licks in general, they’d throw us some treats now and then from 21st century efforts Forget Yourself (2005) and Man Woman Life Death Infinity (2017). But then Steve Kilbey really went on a productive tear with not one, but two double concept albums, The Hypnogogue (2023) and Eros Zeta and the Perfumed Guitars (2024) along with a novel! Now we have Lacuna, all 79:32 minutes of it, recorded in Arlyn Studios in Austin, TX. That’s over four hours of music released in the past three years, admittedly a lot to wade through for even the most devoted fans.

Some might assume The Church came to Texas for an injection of country vibes. Hogwash. Has everyone forgotten our rich legacy of psychedelic music — along with pioneers The 13th Floor Elevators there’s the pre-ZZ Top band The Moving Sidewalks, The Red Krayola, Bubble Puppy, The Golden Dawn and many more? The state appears to have been on their mind since they recorded “Texas Moon,” the B-side to “Reptile.” There is a subtle country tinge to “Pleasure” on Eros Zeta and the Perfumed Guitars (2024), and fortunately they don’t overdo it with the occasional references to the recording environment throughout the album.

As solid as the last two concept albums are, it almost shocking how immediate the songs are here, starting with the epic opener “Lumbini Grove,” where Kilbey builds up to belt out such an exciting, catchy vocal melody and short but riveting guitar solo you could easily believe it was from a long lost album from 1987. “Western” keeps up the energy, topping off with an eruption of all three guitarists (Ian Haug, Ashley Naylor and Jeffrey Cain) that overpowers the more wispy efforts the band has been known for. “Ferrari” offers a change of pace with more typical chiming atmospherics, but “Sky River,” with the rolling toms and dramatic build sounds like something Simple Minds could have done circa 1982-84. “Winter” is more jangly than they’ve sounded since Heyday. Did the band take a ayahuasca journey or make a deal with the devil at the crossroads and shave 40 years off the top? The highlights keep on coming, like the gorgeous “Sky and Hill,” which could have been a hit on a John Hughes movie soundtrack.

Something about the multi-tracked vocal effects and glammy drive of “The Lemurian” and particularly “Rapture” that puts their alt rock colleagues Love and Rockets in mind, but not so much as to sound like an overt tribute. “Martian Skyline” offers some playful rhymes along the lines of Robyn Hitchcock. It’s hard not to address all seventeen songs, as there are really no duds here, with “Have You Been Here Before?” and “I Want It” also being potential highlights.”Forever” is a climactic power ballad that peaks with interlapping guitar solos, confirming that this is their most guitar-forward album since Heyday.

The Pink Floydian nine-and-a-half minute closer “Sacred Echoes” has a lot to unpack, but promises interesting payoffs for repeated listens and signs looks good that it’s one of their most successful experiments they’ve ever pulled off. I’ve re-listened to their entire catalog these past two weeks, and I’ve concluded that Lacuna is their most consistently great album since, Starfish (1988), no joke. Untitled #23 (2009) and After Everything Now This (2002) have been considered late career highlights, even classics, but as good as they are, there’s very little on those albums that got me excited, then or now, compared to the multiple times I’ve been stunned throughout this album.

Some might be excited or distressed to learn that Steve Kilbey has also released fifteen proggy albums with Martin Kennedy, and another thirty solo albums and other collaborations and side projects.