Laced

Dissatisfied with the “shitgaze” sound that they helped establish, Psychedelic Horseshit get wildly experimental on Laced. Instead of thriving in their usual fuzzy, brittle environment of distortion, Matt Whitehurst, Ryan Jewell, and Rich Johnston clean up their act and go the cosmic route with dubby electronic sounds recorded straight to a ‘70s reel-to-reel machine. Everything is still purposely half-assed and ramshackle, but crisp percussion is the basis -- much like Black Dice’s Repo, Growing’s Pumps!, or even aspects of Ween’s Pure Guava -- full of analog synths, drum machines, samplers, and weirdo sounds that are rendered indecipherable and sliced and diced in time. In fact, the name Psychedelic Horseshit is more accurate than ever, as they truly sound psychedelic for the first time, surrounded by wild soundbursts and shiny musical squiggles that would probably be called “horseshit” by most mainstream rock fans. If shitgaze seemed to go out of style as quickly as it became vogue, the mutated shoegaze of “Revolution Wavers” could potentially bring the term back to life, with its soaring, swirling synths and pummeling drums being the ideal definition. Whitehurst’s congested vocals add to the atmosphere, as he mumbles in a druggy stream of semi-consciousness about how “silver streams keep glowing up over top the city and raining scorpions down” or how the “twisted lines in carpets tend to swirl about the room, leaving behind trails, disappearing soon.” In a way, it’s perfect. A perfect mess, with Times New Viking's Beth Murphy singing a duet with Whitehurst on the spacy ballad “Dead on Arrival,” to provide a soft, cushy ballad as a resting place from all the mad beats. ~ Jason Lymangrover