In yesteryears, drummers of Brannen Temple’s caliber claimed very public starring roles as bandleaders. By way of his namesake band, the Austinite follows in the footsteps of Art Blakey, Chick Webb, and Buddy Rich on the kaleidoscopic New Dawn. A cosmic Temple descends on the opening “Drum Solo,” establishing his presence from the jump. Firmly planted, things quickly turn terrestrial on the grooving rhythm of the title track. James Robinson’s hypnotizing falsetto lovingly pierces the main arteries, pumping tenderness and compunction throughout the recording. The alien Temple reemerges on “Abstract,” a track that takes three distinct turns, brimming with spectacular tempo changes, supple fills, and strong guitar play. Its R&B/metal hybridization then carries over onto the succeeding “Atmospheric.” The most cohesive moment occurs on “Torn,” a first-rate pop anthem equipped with a heavyweight hook. The fuzzy structure of New Dawn means its half-life fades a bit faster than desired, themes building on top of each other, yet playfully hurtles ideas at the listener without the requirement of commitment on either end, each track a dalliance of mutual convenience.
This article appears in Dan Patrick.
