Psyche-rock Stoke four-piece Psyence are here to guide us to a better consciousness, their future noise is the soundtrack to a remembered past littered with debris and flotsam. Mediocrity is ubiquitous. Too much product is all bluster, blood and no guts, attitude with no heart. Artifice and fakery reign supreme rendering the true seekers in danger of obscurity. No more.
Exuding poise not pose, presence not pretence, this is no fancy dress whimsy archetype-psyche (e.g. Temples) those who are kitted out in the regulation garb and operate within existing decades long boundaries, deploying weary tropes and signifiers, staid and safe, preferring conformity in uniformity. Psyence not only pose ask the questions they proffer the solutions.
Their magnificence is revealed in the spaces in-between, the nuances and diversions a masterclass in patience. It is impossible to second guess their next move. The heavy-pop grooves mixed with swirling effects situate them with rock titans such as The Groundhogs and Iron Butterfly.
Criminally low down on the bill nevertheless they tear it up in front of the buzzing throng. ‘Zebra’ is all woozy wah-wah undercut with a thuddering backline, an ode to going psycho-doo-lally. It has a faint reminder of Talking Heads’ ‘Found a job’.
‘Chemicals for breakfast’ typifies the propensity for detours, confounding the listener and spectator just when it seems they’ve got it sussed. A lolloping bassline snakes in and out with the attendant noise clinging on for dear life. The soundtrack to a breakdown you entertain.
These free radicals are the best thing to come from the potteries since clay. Theoretically, hypothetically and psyentifically this quartet provide the equilibrium and friction this inert nation requires.
Up yours, D:Ream’s Brian Cox!