Psychedelic rock that's been blown out of a cannon into the sky, with guitar riffs that sound like Nicolas Cage when he does one of his loud, drawn out groans -- that's an adequate description of BLOWN OUT, the all-caps band made from a variety of other rising heavy guitar zombies, including Pigs Pigs Pigs Pigs Pigs Pigs Pigs. Here's their new record, 'Drifting Way Out Between Suns'. Jam hard.
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- REPOSELP42 / Ltd grape coloured vinyl LP on Riot Season. Edition of 400 copies
- Includes download code
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- Drifting Way Out Between Suns by Blown Out
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It's hard to be in the right frame of mind for BLOWN OUT's astronaut-bong psych rock at half nine in the morning, so excuse me for not feeling quite as cosmic as they do on 'Drifting Way Out Between Suns', a record of squealing riffs, infinite pedal effects and groovy, spaced-out bass playing, all of which have probably come together in a dark room that best reflects the big, black universe we look up to every night. No stars, no planets, no rocket taking us home -- this is the soundtrack to floating forever through chaos.
‘Drifting Way Out Between Suns’ is comprised of two long-form tunes that refuse to die -- death is an earthly concept. The twenty-minute title track floats through a stubborn, constantly locked in groove that lasts its entirety, creating space for the band to solo until they’ve dried up all possible avenues, slid into every fret and called upon every wah-pedal. I can’t imagine listening to it stoned would be that fun, since it’s largely uninventive but nonetheless insistent, taking all the fun out of Electric Wizard and leaving us with the blank dot of space. “Quantum Shift On Plague Mothership” follows in the same vein, shrouded in echoing effects and long, whittling solos that have little to no form: you come to these records for the short, incredible riffs, but BLOWN OUT are more interested in showing how long they can pull their jams off for. It makes sense, I guess, as space is an uneven, asymmetrical place. But ‘Drifting Way Out Between Suns’ doesn’t make me keen to visit the vast emptiness. Stanley Kubrick would love it, though it doesn’t quite last three hours. Also, he's dead.
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