DulceSky is not “some bands.” The idea of a sophomore slump probably never occurred to Oliver Valenzuela or his brother Daniel as they were growing up in one of the most cosmopolitan cities in South America — Santiago, Chile. Like so many other kids, Oliver and Daniel were raised on The Beatles, a band that didn’t know the meaning of the word “slump.” When that formative influence gave way to other heavyweights like the Cure, Ride and Catherine Wheel, Oliver knew he wanted to make albums of his own. He just had to assemble a band, find a new country and learn a new language first.

Years, miles and a series of fits and starts later, DulceSky was born in one of the least cosmopolitan cities in the United States — Salt Lake City, Utah. And as unlikely as it was that a band with aspirations beyond the boundaries of the Beehive state came together there, the fact that it consisted of three Chileans (Oliver, Daniel and Mitchell Razon) and one American who had spent significant time in Chile (Brett Kocherhans) was even unlikelier.

Maybe that unlikelihood is what gave DulceSky its staying power. It was the culmination of years of aspiration and unfailing self-belief, and you could almost be forgiven for wondering if it might turn out to be not only the band’s first album, but its last. Yet, four years — and what seems like a lifetime of experience later — DulceSky is back with a shimmering new record, Invisible Empire.

With the new album, they’ve tapped into something powerful, haunting and strangely optimistic. Like a bleak vision of a not-so-distant future (or would that be the echo of an only-vaguely-remembered past?), Invisible Empire feels like a sci-fi film — a call to arms against a seemingly inescapable reality.

With its slow-burning dirges and six-shades-of-midnight-blue palette, the album is an intense listen. It fairly glides on the back of martial rhythms and ambient washes before exploding into cataclysmic eruptions of urgency. Sure it’s heavy, but like the best sci-fi films, it’s massively entertaining.

If you’ve listened to Lands, the new record makes perfect sense. If not, no worries. Invisible Empire is a progression that totally obliterates any notion of a slump. In fact, if you were to ask Oliver if he ever worried about such a thing, he’d probably tell you he doesn’t know the meaning of the word.

"Unfamiliar E.P."

Sometimes, the best way to jumpstart songwriting creativity is playing someone else's song. That wasn't necessarily the plan when DulceSky set out to cover the mighty Ride in early 2007, but it ended up being the result. Long Ride fans, Oliver Valenzuela (Vocals, Guitar), Mitchell Razon (Drums), and Daniel Valenzuela (Bass), jumped at the chance to cover "Unfamiliar," a Nowhere-era b-side, for a Ride tribute album. But it wasn't a matter of simply going into the studio and banging out a version of the song in an afternoon.

DulceSky tried slowing the tempo down and a few other ideas that went, well, nowhere. Stuck, the band turned to technology. A Groovebox sampler was enlisted, and the band had a revelation: strap the straight-ahead rock of "Unfamiliar" to a two-step, almost disco beat, and watch the sparks fly. The result was a driving, powerful take on a classic and, eventually, a window into the recording of the Unfamiliar EP.

When it became apparent that the Ride tribute album had stalled and possibly would never see the light of day, DulceSky decided to release their cover instead of letting it gather dust. And then the songs started coming: "Icon of Distress," a politically charged slow burner with the band's trademark textured guitars, "In Your Way," an atmospheric ode to reconciliation, and the elegiac "Ana in a Dream," a deeply personal and beautiful song featuring acoustic strumming and arpeggios (elements rarely heard in the DulceSky camp) on a bed of shimmering keyboards.

What came from the circuits of that unwitting Groovebox turned out to be a coherent work that furthers DulceSky's story in exciting ways. The Unfamiliar EP fits perfectly within the band's discography while suggesting potential new horizons in their sound. More than a transitional work, though, the songs here speak for themselves: four tracks that, taken together, are a testament to an enduring band's creative vision.