Top 5 Records w/ Richard In Your Mind

Richard In Your Mind. Now that’s a band that know all about the simple pleasures in life. They’ve pumped out a plethora of records since their inception in 2006-ish, and the best of these albums, in my opinion, resonate from RIYM bending straightforward themes into mind-altering escapades. From older tracks like “Mozzarella” and “P.S I Love You”, to their new one “Hammered”, which has to be among the songs of the year, Richard In Your Mind know how to make pysch-pop work on a laid back level. Must be the beards.

You see? That’s a track that contains a basic little flute riff, a cool-as-fuck guitar and some lyrics about getting hammered in the daytime with ya bae. And it’s fucking brilliance. I decided to hit up old mates, and see what THEY reckon are the best records that dwell on the simple pleasures of life.

Top 5 Records w/ Richard In Your Mind

1. Harry Nillson – The Point

In the morning when you wake up it can be nice to have a story told to you, especially if the person telling the story has an amazing voice. The Point is sometimes spoken, sometimes sung and always wonderful. “Me and My Arrow” is a classic.

2. Cibo Matto – Viva La Woman

Do you know your chicken? Well that is a tough question to answer for anyone. I have come to realise that you cannot truly know your chicken until you have danced around your living room to this masterpiece.

3. Ravi Shankar – Three Ragas

Another morning album. It can be nice to ease into the day.

4. Beastie Boys – Intergalactic

Now it’s partytime. This might be the best song ever written in the history of music. But you already knew that because you’re cool

5. Apeman – The Kinks

The simplest pleasures in life are the things we have enjoyed since we first evolved from apes over 100 years ago. Sometimes you need to get in touch with your inner apeman or apewoman and get down with some wooden clubs and raw meat.


Richard In Your Mind’s ‘Ponderosa’ is out now on one of the best labels in the world Rice is Nice. Review here. They’re also playing the Lansdowne on Friday October 17th FOR FREE. Get your beautiful head down there!


Gig Review: King Gizzard & the Lizard Wizard

Thursday 10th April @ The Roller Den

Fuck man. King Gizzard & the Lizard Wizard amirite? Four albums in 18 months? That’s like me completing a university assignment on time-fucking impossible! Hell, you’d be better off getting me to hold a conversation with someone who doesn’t know who the Black Lips are than stopping King Gizzard from pumping out new, consistently mind-blowing material. That’s why everyone who wanted to get bits of their highest expectations exploded out of their skull attended the Gizz’s show in Erskineville that Thursday night.

The night opened with local psychers Raindrop. A damn good performance, but nothing to write home about. Worth chucking a text or a sneaky e-mail to your mate who digs on Tame Impala and POND though. The guys were pretty stereotypical psych lords, long haired dudes with cool shirts, busting out long, droning solos and wrapping the audiences’ head in a hefty sheet of reverb. Overall, everyone who was on drugs (90% of the crowd) loved Raindrop, and the others wore a smile of content.

Next up though, were garage punk kings The Living Eyes. The singer/guitarist Billy runs Anti-Fade records, one of the finest churners of garage and punk in the Southern Hemisphere, so no doubt his own band are going to be fucking sick. The guy with the balls to press records from The Gooch Palms, Wet Blankets and Ausmuteants is obviously a guy with the balls to blitz the fuck out of a show.

And blitz they did, raining down a storm of riffs and fuzz fury on an unsuspecting crowd that quickly turned into a mosh of Slayer proportions. Seriously, it was like a bukkake of guttural guitar and howling,wretched garage rock. The crowd couldn’t get enough of the ferocity on stage; even when a string broke and the band awkwardly waited for a replacement onstage, they had no trouble rolling back into oblivion-mode when a new guitar began it’s thrashing induction. ‘Ways to Make A Living’ and ‘Eat It Up’ packed particularly intense Mike-Tyson ear-chewing punches. There was a do-or-die vibe, like the B-52’s meeting Bass Drum of Death competing in a fiery go-kart race where everyone dies in an explosion of tyre and garage fuzz at the end.

Finally, the Gizz got onstage, and the only conceivable problem was how they were going to fit all seven members on stage. They managed, a lot better than on the considerably smaller stage at FBi Social on the Saturday night, and the show got into full swing quicker than an episode of Game of Thrones kills off a major character. Immediately, ear drums were blown, and a roiling mass of bodies began. The Gizz played with passion and perseverance, eliciting the kind of vibrancy that you’d rarely see at a gig.

The material mainly stuck to the previous two album releases-this year’s ‘Oddments’ and last year’s ‘Float Along-Fill Your Lungs’. Basically, that meant that the songs could range anywhere between three minutes and ‘Head On/Pill’ sixteen minute-plus extravaganza. But all the material showed off a new-side of the band that allowed the audience to revel and indulge in carnal dancing and excitement, like a seven-pieced psychedelic Dungeons & Dragons die.

For example, ‘Sleepwalker’ was entrancing like the best Animal Collective material, whilst ‘Hot Wax’, was a primal seeper, divulging in a mud-caked, bass-driven firecracker that is best set off after a batch of bad acid acid in the swamps of Perth. And the fact that ‘Head On/Pill’ has upwards of five muscular, pile-driving sections where all the audience is allowed to do is headbang and thrash is a testament to what kind of insane beast King Gizzard are in the live format.

Seeing this band live is a 100% must. They’re like a version of the Planeteers that were obssessed with the Nuggets compilations instead of hanging out with a guy with a green mullet that painted himself blue-apart, they’re just a bunch of long-haired minstrels. But together, and attached to their various instruments-a harmonica, a guitar, a theremin, a drum kit, whatever- their powers combine to form a loud, real and impossibly addictive show that will fuck up your ears and make every nerve ending in your body resemble a fried composition of total happiness.

Album Review: Ty Segall-Sleeper


A word of warning: there is no way that I can write this without some element of bias. I love Ty Segall more than I love Star Wars, and I fucking love Star Wars. Ty Segall represents a shining hope in a music industry polluted with auto tune and lyrics about bitches. Ty Segall remedies this all with consistently amazing albums. He is one of my favourite modern artists for a reason. Ty Segall doesn’t just make brilliant music at a prolific rate; every album shows a new direction. You can bet your gallstone bladder that when there’s a new Ty Segall album on the horizon, it’s going to sound different to the last one. And it’s going to sound better than the Death Star blowing up. ‘Sleeper’ proves this beyond a reasonable doubt.

So, if ‘Melted’ was the garage rockers zeitgeist, ‘Goodbye Bread’ uncovered lo-fi at the archeologist dig, and ‘Twins’ was the 70’s pysch rockers pulverisation of the senses, what could ‘Sleeper’ be? Well, its a psychedelic-folk number that turns into the gift that just keeps giving. Don’t expect to hear much of the usual Ty Segall guitar romp though; besides the bombastic sliding ending of ‘The Man Man‘, the whole album is deeply immersed in the murky side of folk music. But, before, you get all up in arms, deriding Ty Segall as a blasphemous hippie pig, take a listen for yourself, and uncover the inner Byrds fan that’s been living inside of you this whole time. There was no way I could have made that sentence creepier.

From the beginning of the album, Ty Segall wraps you in his warm guitar embrace, warbled vocals and slackened guitar resonating with everyone who’s keen to open their mind to some amazing music. Opener ‘Sleeper’, is both epic and subdued at the same time; violins lament in the back of the mix, whilst formidable chords echo through the listeners mind-cells. Ty’s voice, dare I say it, actually sounds good, and after listening to his strung out vocals religiously for the past six or so albums, this comes as both a shock and a relief.  Meanwhile, on the Western Front (otherwise known as Third Track Land) ‘Crazy’ is the traditional Ty Segall track, with a chorus of ‘he’s here, he’s still here, though she’s crazy!’, something that would slide easily next to ‘The Drag’ or ‘Ceasar’ as a classic Ty track-only, this is done in a quiet but equally effective way as if Ty had shouted the whole thing over a warped squeal.

The album strikes a deadly balance between these two types of tracks, the heroic nonchalance of acoustic balladry and unleashed super happy fun times. After a John Wayne funeral scene track entitled ‘She Don’t Care’ that could make Johnny Cash shed a tear, and the Juarez-inspired ‘Come Outside’, Ty Segall follows up with a balls to the wall (or at least as balls to the wall as pysch-folk can get) mind melting and layered-vocal mess ‘6th Street’, and a poker-playing, heel-clicking, tobacco-swindling ‘Sweet CC’. The keeling nature of the album would see any less-experienced artist lose their shit in the balancing act, but Ty Segall has perfected it. He can switch moods at the flick of a switch, with 100% less cliche than that idiom warrants.

By the end of ‘Sleeper’, Ty Segall has taken the listener on a journey, without even realising it. After playing that opening track, a mere 36 minutes later, the listener will find themselves enraptured, not even realising how their emotions and thought processes have been subtly warped by the fantastic music they have listened to. This isn’t something to be scoffed at, no this is true musical genius on display. Like The Who and The Rolling Stones, Ty Segall has crafted a work of art, undeniable in its genius. ‘Sleeper’ is not just the next in Ty Segall’s musical triumphs; its a majestic odyssey of  the pysch-folk genre within itself, a mind blowing achievement beyond words.

‘Sleeper’ came out the other day on Drag City and Spunk Records, two of the best labels in the world. You should consider getting it if, you know, have any sort of human decency in the world, and your soul is not patrolled by Satan. Buy the record here for the price of two Tooheys longnecks. 

Video: SPLASHH-Feels Like You

Looks like Tame Impala really stirred some shit. Now all the fucking pysch bands are coming out of the woodwork, and it could not have come at a better time. I don’t know why, but SPLASHH are just too cool, and give off some really friendly vibes that suck you in like octopus tentacles. Maybe it’s the extra H, maybe it’s the warped, distorted guitar wah-wah. Who knows? (it’s probably the pink elephant skateboarding in the video) But their shoegaze-y pysch is putting them at the front of London’s burgeoning new pysch scene.

New King Gizzard & the Lizard Wizard

Holy shit balls, is this an amazing track. The mightiest of garage bands, King Gizzard & the Lizard Wizard have just released a new song ‘Head On/Pill’ and it is one of the best things I’ve heard in a long time. It’s one of those songs that just hits you like a turkey slap from a steam train, and incites a riot in your spleen for reasons unknown. It’s a racous, uncouth rebellion of sound, thick smudges of texture all clashing and overdubbing amongst each other, forming a wall of dirty pysch.

I’ve been following and loving the progress of King Gizzard for a while now, from their scuzzy rippers on the ‘Willoughby’s Beach’ EP, to the garage monstrosity’s of debut album ’12 Bar Bruise’ and the most recent output of the spaghetti-Western inspired ‘Eyes Like the Sky’. So, after conquering everything they’ve attempted insofar, the band have tried their hand at psychedelic, because why the fuck not? They replace John Wayne with the 13th Floor Elevators, turning pysch music on it’s head and giving it a Lizard Wizard kick up the butt hole. The injected flavour that King Gizzard attack their musical subjects with is everywhere, as the 16 minute (16 minute!) track compels even the most easily bored listener to fervent psychosis. It’s a mad, droning gathering of the minions of brilliance, and not a moment is wasted. They even chuck a John Lennon and make the sitar sound badass. Chugging riffs, freakout orgies of sound, gnashing howls of madness thrown sky high…what more could you want?

This is the first taster of the upcoming album ‘Float Along-Fill Your Lungs’, coming out in September, out on the bands own label Flightless Records. My birthday is in September, so this album is more or less the best birthday present ever. If it contains even a fraction of the reckless abandon this single suggests, I will just go ahead and adopt/steal King Gizzard and the Lizard Wizard, lock them in my basement, and force them to play this song over and over in exchange for mushrooms and their lives. Fuck, this song is amazeballs.

You can grab two songs off their ‘Willoughby’s Beach’ EP from their Triple J Unearthed Page here. ‘Dead Beat’ will make you feel like less of a person because you will never be as good as that song.

Video: POND-Xanman

The brand new single from Perth pysch-freaks POND. First there was ‘Giant Tortoise’, and now we get ‘Xanman’. This is a zany, wide-eyed musical interpretation of what hanging out with Nick Allbrook would be like. In typical POND style, the video is an acid trip nightmare of distorted colours, and smothered wackness. It does not make an inch of sense, but then again neither do POND. As long as it’s delivered with unwavering confidence, as POND manage to do ever so consistently, it sounds fucking awesome.

Video: Destruction Unit-Sonic Pearl

If Washed Out wasn’t what you were looking for, try Destruction Unit. They’re a crazy metal/pysch band from Arizona, which makes sense, because there’s fuck all else to do in Arizona besides go out to the desert, take a lot of drugs and and make awesome music. Fittingly, that’s exactly what they do in the clip. If you feel like simulating having your brain peeled back by a shotgun, put on this song. It’s just a dick tease of what’s going to come out later this year on Sacred Bones, however this song can be found on a 7 inch by Suicide Squeeze Records in 3(!) days.

Video: The Black Angels-Don’t Play With Guns

What starts as a normal enough dinner turns into a fucked up cult orgy and a 10 year old doing a schizophrenic dance, with the introduction of the Illuminati symbol on a TV. The girl is a spitting image of Wednesday Addams, and fucks with her parents at dinner, which is kind of a dick move, but whatever, it’s The Black Angels. These guys are the gods of Texas psychedelic, better than even The Butthole Surfers, and if you haven’t checked out their new-ish album ‘Indigo Meadow’ it’s well worth your time.

Video: Melody’s Echo Chamber-Some Time Alone, Alone

In keeping with the whole Tame Impala video theme, this is from Melody’s Echo Chamber. Her debut album last year was fucking beautiful, a hazy spiralled trip through delicate and lush pysch territory. The Kevin Parker connection (I have a feeling that sentence is going to start being used a lot more) is that he produced the album. This is the latest single and video from her, and it’s a doozy (thanks for the phrase Lara). Real nice, and laidback, like the track. She just sort of waids around, like Grimes for her ‘Oblivion’ video. Both solid female artists right now, keen to see both of them sooner rather than later.