Monday, April 6, 2015

Ego on Maximum Pelt Records


Hell, I had no idea Magick Ian from Maximum Pelt was in Ego. Damn makes sense, should have read this Midwest action interview sooner. Of course he started the label years ago xeroxing cassette covers of his own stuff for friends and now has a freaking empire of vinyl releases. I want to believe you can still make a meager living off releasing great music like this and keeping things simple.
The thing I'm into about Ego is this hybrid scuzzy garage and psych sound, both of my favorite things. They dive in deep to both ends of that pool and (DANIEL RICO - ed) is (also) great on vocals, real out of control with a touch of the Make Up, perfectly weird for this sort of thing.

A-Side's "Can't Shut It Off" opens on crazy little shuffle beat with a telephone ring or something else I can't put my finger on. It's a live, in the room sound open to those little mistakes, not that there's any on that great jangle muzzled guitar and a fantastic blown out yelling-into-the-void vocals that bounce with a reverb twist ending the verse in a swirly psych phaser spiral. The vocals are half yelping and not worried about sounding conventional, instead it's almost that creepy Angus Andrew from the Liars sound, but he's just having way too good of a time and taking you with him. They hammer this solid quirky little melody and it blooms toward the end of this opening up with layers and climbing an epic plateau just to moon the rest of the canyon. Ripping off the rest of their clothes they dance around this '70s riff watching the trails, smashing beer bottles and starting way too big of a bonfire. The forest service is called. They hide in the woods. Hope they didn't leave any ID in their pants.
B-Side's "Sunlight" is that morning after and the sun is just starting to burn away the wet from the grass, but the haze from fog or that bonfire is still smoking away blowing in their direction, the guitars starting to shake off sleep. The toms build speed and tempo settling into a bobbing groove with some fancy finger-work before attempting that epic climb again with dueling guitars. They pause to break for the night on a cave ledge and Magik is more subdued, singing from the back of that cave he's turned into his carpeted airbrushed van. Like some kind of hermit man on the mountain Jim Morrison he bellows away, scaring off the wildlife.

Get this from Maximum Pelt Records on brown/orange marble vinyl.


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