Cosmic Comet Ritual

Here is some late night light psych from stalwarts Comet Gain. Their four-track EP Fingerprint Ritual opens with a twelve minute ‘Breaking Open The Head Pt 2’ (a continuation and tangent from the part 1 found on their seventh LP Paperback Ghosts), using a slow, soft oscillation and backwards guitars to build a mist-like mantra that envelops and engrosses. ‘That Lucifer Summer’ feels more garage-lite, taking the psych into the basement, draped with velvet curtains and amber lights, lounging around and jamming. Something that continues into ‘To The City’s Core’, which purportedly features the abnd’s first funky break and a farfisa organ played through a mangled fuzz pedal. Its insidious insinuation of the city as a virus belies a late 60s Blue jam vibe. ‘The Insignificant Dignified’ ends it all, a hushed protest that plays along with the Animals/Troggs rousing template, getting properly fuzzed out and jammed to the edges and beyond. Feeling vintage and straight from the source, Fingerprint Ritual sees the veterans remaining on course for the sun. 
Get it (in red vinyl) here.

Just Vaguely Running

I mentioned in a recent post about Brisbane band Cobwebbs that it pisses me off when people assume that something is cool just because it is inaccessible. I know people who say they like things because they are oblique, obtuse, confrontational, indecipherable, and therein lies the attraction - most people will not attempt to penetrated such barriers, so the people who DO attempt it believe these artists must be geniuses. It may be true for some, but in most cases - such as the Vice review of Cobwebbs' All Around - it's utter bullshit. And totally untrue anyway - I saw a dude buy a copy from Rockinghorse Records on Saturday (I was buying Goat, Natural Child and The Animals LPs, just in case you were wondering).

I stumbled across this Impose article about Chicago band Running. Now, judging them on that name along, they (like Sydney band Songs) are very difficult to look for on Google. The writer of the article made it sound harder to hunt this band down than it truly was. as they had a album on Permanent Records and another on Captcha that came out last year. In fact, back in 2010 we wrote about that Permanent Records album right here. This isn't a "beat them to the pulse" kinda deal, I just don't like people immediately assuming that the inaccessibility of information on the Internet about something or someone means they are necessarily any good, or that they are even hiding from the perceived limelight.

Maybe they just don't own a computer.

That said, the Impose article isn't bad, and Running is fucking awesome, plus they are launching a new album on Castle Face that I believe could be one of the best records of 2013. Vaguely Ethnic is its name, and if 'Controversial PR' is anything to go buy, we are in for some serrated, bare-arse noisemongering, made by drunken degenerates in checked shirts, with bruised kidneys. The trio have going sans vocals on this one, which heightens the Pissed Jeans comparison sonically - breakneck breaking of necks are likely to ensue. 

Vaguely Ethnic isn't out for a couple months yet, but rest assured, expect to hear more about this release as it comes to hand. It will be a completely amazing physical package also - they take great care in their aesthetic, something akin to Double Dagger in that respect, which only helps to heighten the anticipation. I imagine they frequent The Empty Bottle too - and if you live in Chicago and DON'T frequent the Empty Bottle, we don't know each other anymore.

The Vice Of Clearing Out The Cobwebbs

I have been intending to write about Brisbane psych/garage rabid hybrid Cobwebbs' debut LP All Around for quite some time now. Its official launch came back in November at label Lost Race's inaugural festival (which was killer, and rumours afoot that it will back up for another shot at the title this year), and the vinyl version has been selling steadily. But now is a good time to shine a light on this record for two reasons - rumours also persist that the record has sold out therefore are as rare as hen's teeth (which is kinda true - there were only 100 initially pressed), which was purported by the second reason this article exists - the abortion that is this review by Vice.

I don't want to get into a slanging match about the shortcomings of this kind of "journalism", or indeed Vice itself - the magazine has come up with some amazing articles and ideas over the years, and as Black Lips is its "house band", it surely has its fair share of kudos coming to it. But offering a review that tells you nothing other than an album is cool because its hard to get and hard to understand (possibly - I'm not sure the reviewer even got that much across) is poor. I'm probably adding to the fire by wasting oxygen and energy writing about it, which then fuels Vice's stance as a hipster bible - but fuck em.

So, money/mouth time - how is this album? All Around is certainly murky, a racket that revels in its chimera-like interchangeability.  I have the luxury of having seen these guys live many times since their inception - I started out thinking they were a fresh counterpoint to the garage rock that seemed to flow out of every corner of Brisbane in 2011, infusing something a little more sinister into the mix; but now they are an entity unto themselves, spawning their own harem of likeminded collectives (Barbiturates, Occults, Caterpillar Hood) whilst growing in stature and confidence. And those live performances flesh out the very lo-fi production here. But newcomers should still revel in this bottom of a metal barrel aesthetic, because the eight tracks on offer are drenched in the kind of fetid, lurching swamps of feedback and bile that nevertheless  is steeped in classic rock and roll tropes a la The Animals, The Troggs and The Kinks. Acid tones to melt your bones, All Around is the kind of album that deserves cult status because of what it is, not what some fey douchebag says it is.

You can still get All Around too - right here. Or click below. Can't get much easier than that.

Cobwebbs - Ice Melter