Moss Icon’s Lyburnum Wits End Liberation Fly Finally Lands the Way it Should
Moss Icon were always the quietest loud band in the room—hushed guitar figures, barked poetry, then a flash-bang of volume. Their lone LP, Lyburnum Wits End Liberation Fly, was tracked in 1988, surfaced posthumously in 1993, and lived as a talisman passed hand-to-hand. In 2023, it came back with the kind of care the record has always demanded.
Temporary Residence’s anniversary edition isn’t a revisionist project; it’s a restoration. The label rebuilt the package to reflect what the band intended the first time—artwork properly restored, previously unseen photos returned to their rightful place. The audio was remastered by Alan Douches, cut to lacquer by Bob Weston, and pressed at RTI—translation: the thing breathes. Dynamics hit harder, room tone lingers, and small guitar details stop hiding behind the fog.
That cosmetic repair carries real weight. Lyburnum has always been about negative space and pressure—quiet that feels dangerous, loud that feels earned. Getting the visuals and sonics aligned finally puts the album’s intent in focus, particularly for listeners meeting the record outside of original zine lore. The 30th-anniversary timing underlines its out-of-time arc: conceived at the tail end of the ’80s, released after the band dissolved, and still shaping how post-hardcore and early emo learned to simmer before they boiled.
If you’re new here, start at the front door: “Mirror.” It lays out the blueprint—restrained guitar lattice, a voice that reads like field notes, then the inevitable detonation. The remaster is streaming now; hear the detail decades of MP3s sanded off.
