Strange Ranger Take New Shape on Pure Music
The NYC quartet delve deeper into their own metamorphosis through electro-pop abstraction

Strange Ranger can’t stand still. The quartet is always shifting and evolving, whether it’s through cross-country moves or making a sharp departure from their sonic roots. They’re in constant motion, which makes them adaptable and agile in ways that other bands just aren’t. They’re fearless in the face of change and defined by their refusal to stay stagnant. On their latest album Pure Music, out now via Fire Talk, they once again seek out a new version of themselves that’s even more entrancing than the one they shed.
A band that’s been through their fair share of phases, whether it’s the lovestruck shine of Remember the Rockets or the emo-adjacent indie-rock that defined their time as Sioux Falls, they have no problem ripping it up and starting again. They have become adept at reinventing themselves, not for shock value but because they genuinely master any genre they attempt. They live to surprise you, to fake out the listener, to flit from one sound to the next with no warning so they can keep you wondering. While 2021’s No Light in Heaven hinted at the electro-pop leanings on Pure Music, what they’ve delivered here is so sleek and spacious it’s hard to believe this was their first stab at crafting an album that combines their collective obsession with the shoegaze staple Loveless and NYC rave scene DJ’s like The Dare (who prior to his smash hit “Girls” was credited with mixing 2019’s Remembering The Rockets).
From these estranged influences comes a crash-course in escapism; a collection of 10 interconnected tracks that bleed into each other; a sonic blur that makes time feel like a flimsy concept in the face of the zapping synths. It’s a phenomenon akin to the psychology behind removing clocks from casinos, you’re supposed to lose your grip a little bit in order to become chemically dizzy and disoriented. In Strange Ranger’s case, they achieve this through the ethereal echoes of Fiona Woodman’s vocals and distorted samples from YouTube videos that serve as synapses between songs. They usher in a willful oblivion through their all-consuming soundscapes, evident even on early singles like “Rain So Hard” with its mesmerizing ebb and flow.