8/10

'Lion Dance' is the sound of Dan Webb rebuilding his musical world from the ground up. Written after his move from Melbourne to Singapore, the Australian composer and producer's fifth studio album draws on psychedelic jazz, funk, rock and electronica while absorbing the philosophies, rituals and imagery of Southeast Asia. The result is a record that feels like a genuine response to disorientation, loss and starting again.

The album's title came from a lion dance he encountered unexpectedly in Da Nang, and that image becomes an effective symbol for the record as a whole: rhythmic, communal, vivid and rooted in the courage required to move into unfamiliar territory.

'Soup on the Bridge of Oblivion' opens in explicitly mythological territory, referencing the idea of memory being erased before reincarnation. Then 'Things Rise and Fall' and 'The Self Watches Their Return' continue the cycle through a shared line from the Tao Te Ching, turning acceptance of change into part of the album's musical architecture.

From there, the album becomes progressively more animated. 'KC Spider' captures the nervous energy of arrival, while 'Thai Basil' seems to embrace the new environment more openly. Whereas 'Hungry Ghosts' brings death back into focus through ideas drawn from Singapore's Hungry Ghost Festival, with Clive Deamer, Dennis Hamm and Bob Lanzetti helping give the track a particularly strong rhythmic and textural presence.

The second half loosens into some of the album's most immediately enjoyable material. 'Lemongrass' brings Michael Bland, Tim Lefebvre, Dennis Hamm and Nate Werth together around a jazzy, funky core surrounded by psychedelic synth work, while 'Dragon Playground' offers a shorter, more playful burst of movement. 'TR 24', built from material recycled, reversed and reshaped from elsewhere on the album, is a clever reflection of the record's wider interest in cycles and return.

The calibre of collaborators is striking, but 'Lion Dance' never feels like a collection of guest appearances, as Dan Webb remains firmly at the centre, arranging a remarkable cast into one coherent language at every turn.

And that is ultimately the album's greatest achievement. 'Lion Dance' is about death and rebirth, but also about the creative possibilities that emerge when familiarity disappears.

Dan Webb left one world behind and, instead of trying to recreate it, built a more adventurous one in its place.