Members of sublime Danish '60s throwbacks Baby Woodrose make up two-thirds of Telstar Sound Drone, but that's where the resemblance ends. Recorded in a WWII bomb shelter, it mimics the sound of a psychedelic lava flow with each of its seven tracks seamlessly flowing into the next.Maybe it's a reaction to Europe's austerity measures but it's cool to be a tripped-out hippy these days. Psych music of this ilk lives and dies by its mood-enhancing qualities, not through making any philosophical statement. Or maybe it does - the lyrics are barely distinguishable under walls of droning guitar and keys that roll out in endless waves.
You'd expect an album like this to have been recorded exclusively on analogue gear without a computer in sight. Apparently the former is largely true but the band felt compelled to make technology their friend in an effort to produce the most wigged-out sounds they could imagine. There's no objection from this quarter - sometimes a band can be too authentic for its own good.
TSD are two guitars and drums. There are a bunch of guests lending a hand and the all-essential "feel" of the album is relaxed (i.e. not rehearsed within an inch of its life.) Maybe that's what distinguishes the record.The band's been around since 2007, producing one EP and all but disappearing up their own orifices in a mid-career storm of internal disputes before re-convening. Ahhh, life in a band is never boring. The band put down 20 tracks and pared things back from there. I'd lay money that this isn't the last album we'll hear from them.
The most conventional rocker here is probably "Evaporation", five-and-a-half-minutes of Velvets style tub thumping and dissonance. One guitar track noodles away while another runs a continuous strip of guitar feedback through proceedings like a ladder in a stocking.
Given the right mood, "Comedown" is one compelling listen over the course of its 35 minutes.
1/4
