There is something almost disarming about HUG, the self-titled debut from Devendra Banhart, Gyan Riley, and Noah Georgeson. On paper, three musicians with this much experience might suggest a showcase for virtuoso guitar playing, but that is almost exactly what this record avoids. Released September 11, 2026, on David Byrne’s Luaka Bop, HUG is an 11-track, largely instrumental collection that favors atmosphere, texture, curiosity, and space over conventional song structures or instrumental fireworks. Banhart and Georgeson have been collaborators for years, while Georgeson and Riley have known each other since childhood, when they bonded over classical guitar in Nevada City, California. When the three finally began making music together, the result was less a meeting of three established musical identities than the creation of something distinctly its own.
The album immediately establishes its peculiar, inviting world with “Cow With Half Moon Parasol,” where delicate guitar, kalimba, percussion, and field recordings of frogs coexist as naturally as if they had always belonged together. From there, *HUG* continually shifts between ambient, folk, minimalist, and lightly psychedelic territory without settling comfortably into any one category. “Cucullatus’ Dream” moves at an almost suspended pace, its reverberating guitars creating a hazy sense of motion without ever demanding a climax, while “Arunachala” has the gentle, environmental quality of music designed to accompany contemplation rather than command attention. The record is remarkably restrained for a trio featuring three accomplished guitarists, and that restraint is central to its appeal.
There are playful moments amid all that tranquility. “Sarva Mangalam” is the album’s lone real vocal centerpiece, with Banhart delivering an intentionally strange little devotional whose lyrics move between Sanskrit and Spanish. “Bathypelagic” and “Petrichor” put the focus back on Riley’s guitar playing, but even here the emphasis is on color and interaction rather than solos. Elsewhere, Thorleifur Gaukur Davíðsson’s harmonica adds a wistful presence to “Forgotten Gate,” while the environmental recordings become genuine musical elements rather than decorative effects. The album was recorded at Sita Studios by the three members, mixed by Georgeson, and mastered by Philip Shaw Bova, and the production gives the instruments plenty of room to breathe.
“Catatumbo” provides a particularly fitting conclusion. Rain and layered guitars create a dreamy, almost cinematic atmosphere around a musical fragment Banhart and Georgeson originally recorded roughly two decades ago. Rather than feeling like a collection of leftovers or experiments, the old fragment becomes another thread connecting the trio’s long history to the music they are making now. *HUG* is ultimately a record about listening—to one another, to the spaces between notes, and even to the natural world around the musicians. It is quiet without being empty, intricate without being showy, and whimsical without losing its sense of purpose. For an album made by three musicians capable of filling every available space, its greatest accomplishment may be knowing exactly when not to. – Jason Felton