Columnfortably Numb: Psych Rock for January by JR Moores

What’s the difference between psychedelic rock music and heavy metal without the singing and/or grunting? Don’t ask me. I had Flickering Resonance by Pelican in Columnfortably Numb’s best psych records of 2025, much to three readers’ chagrin. This Italian trio are called Lord Elephant so obviously they’re heavy. Think about the weight of an average elephant. Now imagine the absolute LORD of the species. He’s going to strain the scales, all right. Most of these seven instrumentals start off quietly with some mellow noodling or suspenseful fuzz. Soon enough, the phatter and engulfing riffiosity will arrive. There’ll be a fancier guitar solo at some point. Maybe another one will appear a few minutes later. The tempo might pick up towards the end, à la ‘Gigantica’ and ‘MindNight’. All in all, it’s a bit like ISIS meets Earthless. The final number ends on a fade-out which gives the impression that the band just kept hammering away until their limbs fell off or the neighbours complained. They’re not quite at a Pelican level just yet. There’s a missing “X factor” or some subtle forms of variation missing that would help elevate the pachyderm higher. This Lord ain’t Dumbo just yet. 

If there’s one thing I’ve learned, musicians don’t like being pigeonholed. To whack them into genre categories is an inadequate way to illustrate their unique talents, individuality and range. The following description of this American post-something supergroup’s latest recording does lean towards one-style-meets-another-style, for which I can only apologise. Hopefully it gives some impression of their merit, nevertheless. ‘Canvas 11’ mixes comfort twinkling with minor-key tension. ‘Canvas 2’ is Dischord post-hardcore via New Weird America. That’s followed by a ragged and looser garage-y number called ‘Speed Table’. ‘More Frog Poems’ offers dense and moody no wave. ‘Beautiful Holy Jewel Home’ is baritone art rock. ‘Canvas 8’? That’s abstract feedback ambience. For ‘Bird Spells’, think A Thousand Leaves-era Sonic Youth with echoey, folky vocals. ‘I See Poseurs Every Day’ is jittery and evanescent, whereas ‘The Suite Goes Quiet’ could be MV&EE after a gap year somewhere in the East. Top stuff. 

Michael Hampton’s contribution to far-out kaleidoscopic funk rock cannot be understated. Legend has it that this self-taught guitarist was recruited as Eddie Hazel’s Funkadelic stand-in after impressing the group with his note-for-note rendition of the 10-minute masterpiece ‘Maggot Brain’. “Eddie couldn’t even play it note for note,” recalled bandmate Garry Shider. Hampton’s new solo album blasts off with that signature, spiky lead tone of his which soulfully screeches away on the fast-paced ‘Fight Or Flight’. ‘Savanna’ is Led Zeppelin if they’d had Afrobeat leanings. The sax-backed ‘Canyon Jam’ is funkier than Rick James’ knee-length boots, but sadly only 90 seconds long. Thankfully, the next track keeps the party pumping. ‘Technicolor Mobile Home’ wades into symphonic country. What a hoot. No notes.

We’re told that this mysterious musician discovered a copy of Bo Hansson’s Music Inspired By Lord Of The Rings, in a Prague record shop, and never looked back. His Music Inspired By Music Inspired By Lord Of The Rings does have its unashamed proggy qualities. This might put off some listeners who are allergic to the likes of Rick Wakeman, CBE. As a word of warning to that lot, the instruments used on ‘Styrax’ do include flute, dudek and bongos. Where are we again? Kent’s countryside in the 1960s? No! Czechia. Now! There is a warmness to the production of these instrumentals, however, and most of them are relatively and wisely restrained, with a spaciousness that allows each part to breathe. And it is not strictly prog, even if one of the Bandcamp tags does read “Orcs”. Some passages share their style with the more elaborate end of post rock. The final section of ‘Argos’, for instance, could be something by Grails. Mellowly absorbing.    

This Gothenburg-based quartet specialise in instrumentals that are technically accomplished yet also delightfully fuzzy. They’re one of those bands that can show off an awful lot within a crisp five minutes, occasionally providing that sense that they’re on the cusp of falling off the rails completely. In that respect, their sound has some similarities to Helsinki’s exuberant Kaleidobolt, although this set of guys don’t do any singing. They’ll lower their tempos before ratcheting them back up again. At its calmest, as on ‘Huldran’, Homegrown can get a little dubby, whereas ‘Adams Äpple’ could be a vocal-less P-Funk ballad of sorts. Whether rockin’ out fully or dimming down the lighting, they always offer loads and loads of guitar solos, it must be said. You have been warned.

For an outfit whose name appears to condone pacifism, this power trio’s sound is aggressive. Better to pour those impulses into your art than get into a barfight or throw a stranger through a shop window, isn’t it. Joining forces are Mike Vest (Bong, 11Paranoias, Blown Out, Lush Worker, a million other projects), Dave Sneddon (also of a million projects, some of them the same ones as Vest) and David Jasso (from Over-Gain Optimal Death). It’s a rough ‘n’ ugly recording which nods towards each party’s enthusiasm and admiration for unhinged avant-rock from Japan. In its less steady moments, it isn’t even clear whether each member is trying to play the same song as the others. Boy, does it have potency though. Sneddon bashes away, fairly low in the mix. The guitars dominate in a metallic space rock manner. Jasso basically barks his head off, as if imprisoned within the walls of Arkham Asylum and screaming bloody vengeance on the becaped billionaire who threw him in there. It seems tinnitus-inducingly loud, even when the stereo volume is turned way down low. After the final, sixth song crashes to an end, you’ll want to sit and meditate to all 124 tranquil minutes of The Tired Sounds Of Stars Of The Lid, just to take the edge off.