The latest racket from Paul Allen (the Heads) and cohorts, this is his third release under this barely pronounceable name for Rocket. Omegaville is described as chaotic riffage taking in music concrete, sci-fi noise pop, balls out rock and psych chaos. A place where rock, prog and art can safely meet.
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Titans of idiocy Anthroprophh offer Paul Allen -- a serious psychedelic stalwart in the Heads -- the chance to make true on the most ludicrous of thoughts his brain is channeling energy for. ‘OMEGAVILLE’ is a wacky trip through a cosmos busy with banality, his usual brand of fuzz here entirely unfiltered as he growls, squeals and squirm like a supervillain with a rock band as his hired henchmen.
You can still hear the psychedelic riffs whining their way through the background at repetitive, theme tune rates, but Allen’s direction is wayward. He playacts a monologue through a chaotic crash of dense rock fuzz, the drums crashing around him like they’re begging him to shut up -- eventually they get into the groove and the tune becomes a wahing danceathon. At first, all of Allen’s songs sound absurd -- as they go on, it sounds like every member of his band found a reason a reason to live, and if not, to party.
Wild and pantomimic, this record will appeal to anyone who wants to hear Allen break psych rock into pieces -- to convert it to jazz, if momentarily, on “Death Salad”, or to affect his vocals into the evil He’s-Behind-You! antagonist of a garage rock stage production. Think Butthole Surfers; think restlessness; stop thinking.
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- Omegaville by Anthroprophh
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