Chris Ingalls: A producer’s producer who’s manned the boards for everyone from U2 to Bob Dylan to Brandon Flowers, Lanois seems to enjoy bouncing back and forth between experimentation and straightforward pop/rock. On “Deconstruction”, he’s definitely embracing the former, employing some fuzzy, guitar-centric ambient soundscapes reminiscent of Robert Fripp (and perhaps taking a cue from Le Noise, the 2010 album he produced for Neil Young). Lanois provides a unique, somewhat soothing mood with this particular sonic departure, and I can only hope the rest of the album is this interesting. [8/10]
John Garratt: It may be a slow evolution, but it’s an evolution nonetheless. Lanois is taking the spacious ambience of Belladonna and Flesh and Machine further beyond his previously established orbits. Best of all, it represents that childish notion that music can be pretty much whatever you want it to be — a thought that too many professionals easily abandon. The flickering studio light and the body gyrating that comes from aggressive knob-twiddling could have been left out to no one’s detriment. [8/10]
Adriane Pontecorvo: An exquisite fantasy in zero gravity. Lanois always creates a more magical world, and both song and video envelop us once more in it, represented on screen exactly as it sounds: an iridescent sphere, filled with dancing lights. The long, legato notes fall onto each other so softly that the tune they weave sounds almost accidental, twilight ambiance that just happens to come together to create music greater than the sum of its synthesized parts. Melodic, ethereal, uplifting; if any song could literally take you to another planet, it would be this one. [10/10]
Tanner Smith: Daniel Lanois might still be best known as co-producing U2’s The Unforgettable Fire and The Joshua Tree alongside Brian Eno. In truth, Eno’s Here Come the Warm Jets hangs over Lanois’ new single, “Deconstruction”, an ambient track built on filtered guitars and absolutely no percussion. Lanois’ records, both the ones he’s made himself and the ones he’s produced, all feature thick, humid production — they conjure the feeling of being outside in the late-summer dusk. “Deconstruction” is no different in its warm ambiguity. It’s the type of music you could imagine listening to as you orbit planet Earth in the midst of heat death. [7/10]
Dan Kok: Being a contemporary of Brian Eno, Daniel Lanois has an experienced hand in this particular genre. Rocco DeLuca’s eerie presence on reversed steel guitar lends the track a tinge of Americana as though it’s the soundtrack to a dark, futuristic space western. The song as a whole, however, feels as though it needs context. There’s no time to fully experience and become immersed in the soundscape. This style of music is ideal for long form and outside of a full album, it just doesn’t have the same effect. [5/10]
Michael Pementel: “Deconstruction” is a beautiful track slowly unraveling each second with gentle electric waves. Distortion ripples through as the track flows forward into darkness, with drops of brightness. This certainly had an aura surrounding it: somber, loss, heavy, like watching something beautiful come apart. It’s an experience so surreal you ought to just listen to it now. [9/10]
Andrew Paschal: This track feels like an intercepted radio transmission from futuristic ghosts. An ambient elegy, Lanois and DeLuca create a mournful atmosphere that gently invites the listener to hear its wordless story of loss. Theremin-like synths dance over faint undercurrents of noise that remind us that not all sorrow is gentle or pristine, however. While on a literal level the video consists of little more than the artists twisting and turning knobs in the studio, its true purpose seems to be an expressionist one, dealing primarily in color, light, and angles to contribute to the otherworldly mood of the song. [8/10]
William Sutton: Dark, experimental and captivating this abstract slice of atmospheric electronica serves as a testament to the long and celebrated musician/producer career of Daniel Lanois. The album from which it is taken was constructed entirely from the sounds of a pedal steel guitar, allowing Lanois and collaborator Rocco Deluca to push the boundaries of what can be achieved with a single instrument. [8/10]
Paul Carr: This undulating instrumental sounds like the perfect soundtrack to a ’70s sci-fi film. It’s built on graceful, gliding synths with a slight undercurrent of foreboding menace. You can imagine stepping out of a spacecraft and floating, gently in space You can imagine being alone, gazing at the majesty of the cosmos… just before the red light blinks on to signal there’s a problem. [8/10]
SCORE: 7.89