Category: Rewind Reviews

Rewind Review: Ram Dass & Kriece – Cosmix (2008)

What do you get when you mix lectures on Zen, the cosmos, the soul, the Tao, and the journey of the self with wicked bass and beats? If you’re lucky, you get something as cool as Cosmix by philosopher Ram Dass and Australian DJ Kriece.

The album has parts of Dass’ lectures under Kriece’s beats, and neither overwhelms the other. They perfectly blend to promote each other. “Mystic Poetry” has Dass talk about embracing cosmic love while Kriece puts down snappy, toe-tappy beats behind him. “Thousands of thoughts go by, like clouds in the sky,” Dass says on “Thoughts” – a great track about non-attachment to the things that keep us from experiencing the present.

“Mantra” is downright groovy, mixing Dass’ chants and Kriece’s dance beats in perfect unison. This will be stuck in your head for hours, and that’s a good thing. “Stuck” has Dass discussing how he moved away from psychotropic drugs and into deep meditation.

“Breath Inside the Breath” brings the beats to the forefront. “The soul is unique. It has its unique karma,” Dass tells us at the beginning of the beautiful “Dream Dance.” Kriece’s synths shimmer as Dass explains how the soul can liberate itself from attachments through various incarnations. It’s heavy stuff, but heavenly stuff.

“Do you hear that?” Dass asks as rain drops and thunder rolls ahead of Kriece’s synth beats. “That’s peace.” Dass asks us to find peace in the sounds (and silence) around us, and Kriece’s beats (and the spaces between them) nudge us toward it. On “Spacesuit for Earth,” Dass’ words of “When you take an incarnation, it’s like getting into a space suit…” begin the track and soon he’s talking about why we feel separate from each other, from the world around us, and the universe, and Kriece’s hypnotizing synths are soon taking us beyond that universe and Dass is telling us that we’ve been crammed into “a conceptual model since birth…From your point of view, it’s the only reality most of the time.”

“Desire” is both a lecture on the Four Noble Truths of Buddhism and an ambient house track. The closer, “Additya Hridayam,” mixes what sounds like ambient crowd noise from a bus station with Dass’ echoing chants and mantras. It reminds us to slow down in the chaos of our daily lives, to step back from the rush to chasing a buck or get to the magical “golden goodie” (as Dass’ contemporary Alan Watts described it) that we think will make us happy.

It’s a neat album that mixes drum and bass and Zen, Taoist, and Hindu philosophy. What’s not to like?

Keep your mind open. This album will help in that regard.

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Rewind Review: Failure – In the Future Your Body Will Be the Furthest Thing from Your Mind (2018)

If Failure‘s 2015 album, The Heart Is a Monster, picked up where 1996’s Fantastic Planet left off, then their 2018 album, In the Future Your Body Will Be the Furthest Thing from Your Mind, doesn’t pick up where THIAM left off. It lifts off the ground and takes the band even further into the cosmos.

“Dark Speed” gets things off to a groovy start with Greg Edwards‘ funky bass line that will have you tapping your fingers on the steering wheel or your hot rod or your space cruiser. The bass gets heavier on “Paralytic Flow,” as do Ken Andrews‘ vocals about lust, desire, and passion. “Pennies” is one of those mellow tracks that Failure does so well: Simple, soft vocals, almost orchestral arrangements, and floating-in-space sound throughout the whole thing.

The album includes three “Segues” (numbers 10, 11, and 12), which begun with Fantastic Planet and have continued onto multiple albums since then. These tracks are all instrumentals either linking one song to the next or standing on their own as meditations. “Segue 10” is one of the meditative tracks, which clears your head before the somewhat menacing “No One Left.” Kellii Scott pounds out a lot of excess energy he had in the studio that day on it.

The drums and bass on “Solar Eyes” come to kick ass and take names. Andrews encourages us all to rest on “What Makes It Easy,” which is almost a soft love song. “Segue 11” sounds like it combines whale song with a thunderstorm. The slow build of “Found a Way” is like the sensation of watching an approaching comet. It’s a song about a break-up (“I finally found a way to release you and I don’t need anything you left me.””) wrapped in a power-rock track.

Scott’s drumming on “Distorted Fields” is wild and full of what almost sound like random drum fills, but then you realize he’s playing in advanced time signatures that will make your head spin. The groove of “Heavy and Blind” is wicked. “Another Post Human Dream” is a ballad for a prom at Phillip K. Dick High School. “Apocalypse Blooms” is the song you play in the car as you’re leaving that prom and heading for the make-out spot overlooking a neon-lit city with the knowledge it might be the last night of planet Earth.

“Come meet me in the silence,” Andrews sings on “Force Fed Rainbow” – a song great for leaving the comfort of a space station for the unknown, endless silence of space. “The Pineal Electorate” (with Edwards on lead vocals) reveals the band’s love of The Beatles‘ psychedelic era.

It’s another solid, cosmic entry in Failure‘s discography, and an album that will thinking of big-picture science and even bigger picture thoughts on humanity, technology, and the relationships between both.

Keep your mind open.

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Rewind Review: Failure – Tree of Stars (2014)

Taken from recordings of live shows from their reunion tour around 2014, Failure‘s Tree of Stars is a strong and tight capture of the band flattening crowds in Houston and Phoenix with their wall of cosmic shoegaze sound.

“Let It Drip” is the first track on the EP and the first one recorded in Phoenix. Ken Andrews distorted vocals go well with his roaring guitar, and Kellii Scott pretty much puts on a drumming clinic through the whole track. It’s over before you have time to catch your breath.

Greg Edwards‘ bass on “Frogs” (live from Houston) brings to mind a giant version of the titular creature rumbling under the surface of a dark pond upon which a meteor storm (Scott’s drumming) is reflected. The live version of “Sergeant Politeness” (the second Phoenix track) hits with aggressive thuds and extra vigor in Andrews’ vocals. The second track record in Houston is “Heliotropic,” which always has a roaring guitar solo from Andrews, and this version is no exception.

The download version of Tree of Stars comes with a new 2014 version of “Solaris” that is somehow even more deep-space than the original as a result of a slower beat, reverb-drenched vocals, and guitars that sound like they’re being played in Atlantis. The tour-only version had “Come Crashing” on it, which was Failure’s first new music since 1996’s Fantastic Planet and would end up on their 2015 album The Heart Is a Monster.

It’s a great tease of hopefully a full live album in the future.

Keep your mind open.

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Rewind Review: King Buffalo – The Burden of Restlessness (2021)

It’s a bit surprising that I didn’t own a copy of King Buffalo‘s The Burden of Restlessness until now, because they were touring with this album when I first saw them live (playing with Clutch and Stöner) in 2021. I was blown away by their performance and became an immediate fan. I instead bought their first album (and a shirt) at their merchandise table, and this album has somehow eluded me until now.

It’s a shame, because the opening track, “Burning,” alone is a massive slice of cosmic rock that hits as hard as any All Them Witches track but in more of a “Silver Surfer zipping past a collapsing dwarf star” feel than an occult-psychedelic feel. Dan Reynolds bass on “Hebetation” will pick you up, rattle you, and inspire Herculean strength in you for whatever task you’re doing at that moment. The breakdown around the two-minute mark is sublime. Sean McVay sings about contemplating his mortality, but he never sounds frightened by it. He’s too busy shredding his guitar to worry about what comes after death.

McVay’s guitar ripples across “Locusts” like the titular insects bouncing across a wheat field. “Silverfish” is a stand-out on the album with McVay’s guitar sounding like a space probe, Scott Donaldson‘s precision drumming mixed with thunderous fills now and then, and Reynolds bass moving like a cat around the room waiting to either curl up on your lap or attack your ankle. It chooses the latter.

McVay cranks the fuzz on “Grifter,” which might flatten you if you’re not prepared for it. McVay explores depression on “The Knocks” (“Every day I wake up on the floor. Another useless day like every one that’s come before.”). It’s a slow burn to a powerful explosion of sound, like McVay has finally decided to kick open his barricaded door from the inside and woe betide anyone who’s on the other side. “Loam” closes the album with over seven minutes of head-trip rock with McVay says he’s “shedding the burden of restlessness to rise from the loam of the nothingness.” You’ll always get a thumbs-up from me if you close your album with a Zen lesson.

Keep your mind open (This album will help.).

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Rewind Review: The Psychedelic Furs – Made of Rain (2020)

The Psychedelic Furs came back strong in 2020 with Made of Rain, their first album of new material since 1991’s World Outside. Richard Butler‘s voice and songwriting hadn’t lost a step and the rest of the band had plenty of pent-up pandemic energy to release.

“The Boy That Invented Rock & Roll” launches the album with shoegaze guitars and Richard Butler singing about himself to some degree (The Furs are one of the most influential UK post-punk bands still going.) and probably about others he’s seen in his long career who burned out (“the suicidal drunk dance, the sense that things will fall apart”) too soon. “Don’t Believe” has stadium-level grandeur with its expansive sound courtesy of Rich Good‘s guitars.

“When the new black is white and the new lows are high, in the ticking of the time, you’ll be mine,” Richard Butler sings on “You’ll Be Mine” – a gorgeous track with string instruments, alto saxophone work from Mars Williams, and celestial synths from Amanda Kramer. The chorus increases in power every time Butler sings it. Speaking of Butler’s power, it’s on full display on “Wrong Train” – a song about walking away from a relationship and the mixed emotions that come with it. “This’ll Never Be Like Love” continues this theme.

Paul Garisto‘s drums on “Ash Wednesday” seem all over the place but are actually loaded with highly technical fills. “Come All Ye Faithful” isn’t a cover of the traditional Christmas song, but rather a bit of a goth track, as is “No-One,” which has some Cure-like guitars behind Tim Butler‘s heavy, growling bass. A harpsichord plays the role of clock chimes on “Tiny Hands” – a song that seems to be about how time often gets away from us before we realize it’s gone.

“Hide the medicine from the kids,” Butler sings on “Hide the Medicine,” a sad tale of someone trying to hide their depression from their children hidden in a lush rock song. “Turn Your Back on Me” is just as lovely, with Good’s guitars seeming to echo from the back of a workshop behind the studio. “Stars” starts slow and then builds into a big, screeching song that drops out in a quick distorted plunge.

The Psychedelic Furs had a lot to get out of their heads when making this record, and the end result is a fine piece of work.

Keep your mind open.

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Rewind Review: Rickshaw Billie’s Burger Patrol – Burger Time Classics (2017)

The debut EP from Austin, Texas’ Rickshaw Billie’s Burger Patrol, Burger Time Classics, is a protein-packed wallop in just six songs.

I mean, the opening chords and vocals of “Born to Lose” alone will smack you upside the head – and that’s before the heavy snare pounding and cymbal sizzling enters the fray. “Dickhead” starts sounds like an old Weezer track they never released and then drops chugging guitars that Weezer still dreams of playing.

“Maggot” is almost sludge metal. “Kill for the Thrill” is so hot and that it’s practically charbroiled. It’s hard to tell which instrument is putting out the most volume in it. The title of “All Beef, Patty” is not only funny, but it also lets you know what’s in store for you over the next three minutes and thirty-seven seconds: pure beefy rock with a little extra grease. “Maniac” has touches of thrash metal sprinkled in for good measure.

It’s short, but satisfying – not unlike a slider.

Keep your mind open.

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Rewind Review: Protomartyr – No Passion All Technique (2019 reissue)

Recorded somewhat by accident in 2011, Protomartyr‘s debut album, No Passion All Technique, was originally supposed to be a 7″ single. As the story goes, however, they were convinced to record as much material as possible within the four hours of studio time they’d booked, and they ended up with twenty-one tracks. The result became a 2012 release of a post-punk modern classic that quickly sold out and is now a collector’s item.

Thankfully, the Detroit quartet reissued the album a few years ago (with bonus tracks if you get the digital download) for those of us who missed the boat in the last decade. It’s a fiery, raw, and sometimes humorous record fueled by a case of beer and Detroit attitude.

Greg Ahee‘s opening guitar riff of “In My Sphere” gets the record off to a jagged, wobbly start, and soon vocalist Joe Casey shows up to rant and rave before Scott Davidson and Alex Leonard come crashing in on bass and drums like bandits robbing a bank in an Old West town. The aggression continues on “Machinist Man,” a song about how the daily grind of Detroit factory work can drive a man to madness. “Hot Wheel City” is another post-punk poem about their hometown (“This city is a stray dog.”).

“3 Swallows” covers one of Protomartyr’s favorite subjects – barflies, lushes, and others who drown their sorrows in Hamm’s at the local watering hole. “I used to light my cigarette on the fire that you had in your eyes, and I was the king of hanging around with wastes of time.” Damn. “Free Supper” is a punk rager about people just wanting basic needs (food, freedom) while skirting the edge of entitlement.

The first time I played “Jumbo’s” (a song about barflies who keep returning to the same pub for booze and gambling despite always swearing they’ll never do it again) for a friend of mine, he replied, “That is some urgent shit.” The song has since become a favorite of the crowd at their live sets. “Ypsilanti” is about patients at the closed mental health asylum in Ypsilanti, Michigan.

“Too Many Jewels” creeps up to you (thanks to Davidson’s wicked bass line) and then Casey’s spoken / yelled street corner preacher-like vocals (and lyrics) give you a jump scare. “(Don’t You) Call Me Out My Name” is a fast, feral punk thrasher that blasts by you at near-light speed. “How He Lived After He Died” might be a precautionary tale of Casey wondering how he’s going to end up when he’s old. Will he be sitting in a chair, surrounded by books? Or will he be so alone that he can’t even bother to set his clock back for daylight savings time?

“Feral Cats” is even more bleak, with Casey warning of how society’s falling apart and most of us will just watch it happen and wait to pick up the scraps. The furious chorus almost blindsides you every time you hear it, even when you know it’s coming. “Wine of Ape” seems to be a story of Casey being confronted by a random stranger (who might be drunk or high) who tries to tell him a dirty joke, but Casey has no time for it and just wants to be left alone, walking away while the guy yells at him. “Principalities” could very well be the drunk guy’s ramblings, or Casey’s bottled up frustration with Detroit as it tried to deal with the aftermath of the burst housing bubble and thousands fleeing the city in search of better opportunities…leaving everyone else in their little neighborhoods to figure out how to manage.

The band has gone on record about how they didn’t expect their debut album to be this good. The title is a bit misleading. The album is full of passion, and the band’s techniques are in their early stages, which sound great.

Keep your mind open.

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Rewind Review: Buffalo Daughter – We Are the Times (2021)

Buffalo Daughter‘s 2021 album, We Are the Times, is a good time capsule of what was happening in the band’s lives, and all our lives, in the middle of a pandemic. The band declared that we had had adapt to the times we were in or be stuck in them forever.

“Music is the vitamin to live under. Too much pressure in quarantine,” they say at the beginning of the album on “Music.” Synth-bloops and heavy electro-bass pep us up for the times to come. In fact, “Times” is the next track, and it’s bumping dance track about adapting to circumstances beyond your control – so why worry about them? They state the obvious on “Global Warming Kills Us All,” and they state it with robotic voices, possibly to emulate our eventual A.I. overlords that take over the planet to save it from us.

“Life is long, life is short. I’m not sure what time we’re in. Should I stay, or should I go?” Whatever you do, “Don’t Punk Out,” they warn on this cool post-punk jam with sharp guitars and bright synths. “Loop” lands somewhere between electro and industrial. “ET (Densha)” brings in dubstep bass, but plays it slow to create a sense of dread and danger. On “Jazz,” they encourage us to open our hearts and minds in these weird times. People might need us as much as we need them. The album ends with the quirky “Everything Valley,” which encourages us to hold onto hope

It’s another good album from Buffalo Daughter that, like a lot of their stuff, is hard to classify, but that’s okay. It’s meant to lift your spirits a bit, so let it.

Keep your mind open.

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Rewind Review: Frankie and The Witch Fingers – Brain Telephone (2021 remaster)

Starting with bright, jangly guitar and weird filter effects, Frankie and The Witch Fingers‘ 2017 album, Brain Telephone, plunges you straight into their weird, wonderful world of psychedelic garage rock with the opening title track and barely lets up on the rabbit hole plunge for the album’s entire length.

The harmonica on “Learnings of the Light” brings early Rolling Stones to mind, if the Stones got even trippier in their first decade. The heavy fuzz of “Primitive Delight” is perfect for rolling down the windows and blasting it as you pull into the Tasty Freeze drive-thru for a strawberry milkshake and some onion rings. “Sunshine Earthquake” and “Microscope” have a neat “soaring” energy to them that seems to lift both tracks, and you, off the ground.

“Doomed” embraces the band’s love of The Doors and southern California (where the band relocated after starting in Bloomington, Indiana) rock. “Sinister Poison” has a fun, slightly spooky keyboard riff throughout that it might make it your new favorite addition to your Halloween playlists. “Owsley” takes Beatles-era psychedelia and injects it with about a liter of straight fuzz and cosmic rock riffs. I’m not sure if the guitars or the drums are bigger in it.

You might think “Let Love Be Love” is going to be a full-blown “hippy” track with its title and opening guitar strums and ballad vocals from Dylan Sizemore, but the track doesn’t devolve into navel-gazing jams and instead remains a straight-up Summer of Love pop-rock cut. They save the epic jamming for “Mother’s Mirror,” which is over eight minutes of ripping solos, tight chops, and warped vocals. It starts as a mind-trip jam (with flute!) and slowly builds into a fast blast through space.

It’s a cool album because you can hear the band’s sound evolving into what would become their harder-edged garage rock face-melting style.

Keep your mind open.

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Rewind Review: The Stooges – self-titled (1969)

The Stooges, who would become known for their fierce punk garage rock, could’ve been one of the greatest psychedelic rock bands of all time if they had chosen to go down that road.

Take the opening track (“1969”) of their debut album, for example. It’s loaded with psych-fuzz guitar from Ron Asheton that sounds like he just walked in from San Francisco instead of Detroit, and Iggy Pop‘s vocals are almost spoken word poetry rambled from a dingy coffee house. “I Wanna Be Your Dog” almost induces bad acid trip panic.

The third track, “We Will Fall,” is over ten minutes of floating down a lazy river while monks wearing saffron-colored robes chant and play hand percussion instruments along the banks. “No Fun” brings back the grungy fuzz with Dave Alexander‘s distorted bass leading the romp. “Real Cool Time” has Asheton jamming like a damn sawmill of sound tearing through your house.

Pop’s vocals on “Ann” blend right into Asheton’s guitar squalls while Alexander and Scott Asheton lay down a hypnotic rhythm to further trip you out of your headspace. “Not Right” has Pop feeling frisky, but his lady friend isn’t “feeling right,” so he’s stuck again frustrated, and then even more so when she’s finally in the mood and he isn’t. “It’s always this way,” he moans while the rest of the Stooges proceed to melt our faces. The album closes with “Little Doll” and its swirling, scratchy, savage guitars fading the album, and us, into oblivion.

Everyone knows how important The Stooges are to music, but their debut album is a forgotten psychedelic rock classic.

Keep your mind open.

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