Psychosis
Complex

There are many types of CDs.

There's the amazing one, which we listen to every now and then but already know by heart. The one given as a gift by an ex-girlfriend, ex-classmate, or ex-something that we listened to once more out of obligation than anything else; it’s still shiny, and when you open it, it smells like a store and styrofoam. There's the much-borrowed CD, which has passed through so many hands that, to be honest, you're not even sure it's yours anymore. There are the "double-faced" ones, of which you know only 3 songs while the others could be replaced by a nice stroke of an angry cat. The one you spent a lot on but gladly, and the one you regret throwing away 60 cents for the blank CD. And then there's the CD you've always had, it's been there for a long time, along with all the others, you're not sure where it came from, no one has ever asked to borrow it because no one knows either the album or the band, you rarely listen to it, but it's one of those you feel you possess the most.

For me, "Complex" belongs to this last category of CDs. It has followed me through my 6-7 moves, I bought it second-hand (and judging by the case, it had to be the 4th or 5th "second hand"...) I honestly can't remember where, it seems to me in '94 or '95. The fact that the album came out in 1996 does not in the least alter this belief because by now "it" has entered the 'mythical' status within my collection, more important than CDs much-used or paid for 20 Euros.

The Psychosis are not that famous, indeed let's say a few know them, these Americans from New Hampshire who reached their second (and last) album.

And it has everything it takes to be a not-so-great album, starting with the cover: an improbable photo-puzzle on the front, the same squares that look very much like "bathroom wall" on the back. Inside (and therefore hidden at the moment of the potential purchase decision) immediately a beautiful photo of the sun piercing the treetops of a forest and printed on the CD the same green-reddish woods that get lost in a distorting vortex. Did doing the opposite seem ugly? Who knows.

The musical offering is a doom that strikes more for its sound sterility than for its heaviness and with a monotonous voice on the brink of irritating, while the compositional schemes and phrasings more or less follow the same pattern in almost all 12 tracks.

Despite this, the blend manages to be convincing, gifting us an original album in its monotony, at times surprising in its sound and vocal staticity, well played and carefully arranged.

It's not as massive as metal-doom, it's not as compelling as stoner, but it manages to tear with its hesitant pace and with the arpeggios that get lost within the muffled atmosphere that permeates all of "Complex" and in the end leaves us with a sour and persistent aftertaste.
Doom-laden noises introduce the first "Useless", where the great work of the bass by Mario is immediately noticeable, helping the sound to plunge into melancholy shores, well supported by Corey's drumming, dry and anonymous but precise and necessary glue that holds everything together giving direction to the guitar melodies (Paul) at times delightfully sluggish ("High", "Cloud"). Everything is seasoned by Roddy's vocalizations, rarely powerful, always peculiar, sometimes almost inappropriate; it's precisely the strange vocal timbre that gives many songs that distinctiveness, with the result that the numerous slow and measured passages turn out to be the best, now exalted by a dry and determined growl, now sunk by indecisive singing or an awkward wail.

Original or monotonous? Great album or flop? Indecision plagues me, but I have decided. Or almost. Find it, listen to it, maybe. Or maybe don't, who knows...
If you come over to my place, I'll lend it to you. Or maybe not.