Seasons of Your Day

Mazzy Star may not have evolved much over the past 17 years, but Season Of Your Day proves they never, ever need to. [Oct 2013, p.88]

Their first album in almost two decades, David Roback and Hope Sandoval are on stunning form. [Oct 2013, p.71]

There’s nothing particularly new here, nothing cutting edge, but there is beautiful, considered, genuine songwriting, and to greet such art with any kind of disdain would be nothing short of a travesty.

It’s the aural equivalent of sweet syrup—slow, molasses-y and utterly satisfying.

Seasons of Your Day is a no-frills, no-fuss album from a band cocooned in their own impenetrable dreamworld, untouched by the passage of time.

Mazzy Star steadfastly stick to their dusty, psych-folk, dream-pop tableaux on Seasons of Your Day. Yet it feels nothing like a '90s hangover; in fact, the touches of organ and pedal steel that open the album hint at Beach House's hazy indie-pop.

It’s prime Mazzy Star, the work of a band that knows what it does well. And then does it beautifully

In essence, the album is everything you could want, finding Mazzy Star older and wiser, but still as dreamy as ever.

Sandoval's voice remains an indescribably beautiful thing, while David Roback's guitar provides haunting backing.

The Californians still play ethereal tunes that could waft on forever.

It is refreshing to hear Sandoval’s stunning vocals once again coupled with Roback’s guitars. The world is a better place for it.

No analysis, no interpretation, nothing to feel uncomfortable about here, just beautiful desolation. Mazzy Star was always a band to hide away with, and nothing's changed in 2013.

Those first three albums have always been easy to put on and enjoy, and now we have a fourth to go with them.

While it lacks the singular impact of their still flawless debut, it's still an object of languorous beauty, rather like the band itself. [No. 105, p.57]

Its lyrical understatement and deliberately minimalist presentation may not excite newcomers, but those familiar with the languid delivery of Hope Sandoval and the teasing alternation of holding back and letting go that characterizes David Roback’s music, with and without his band mates, will recognize Mazzy Star’s perch between celestial elevation and shrouded descent.

It makes for the best kind of comeback: equal parts return and reinvention.