The Seers
Psych Out

The year was 1990, UK coolness and plundering from the past. Indistinctly. There was a show on the radio. I don't know who hosted it and it doesn't matter. But it played good stuff, early gems not yet reviewed. You listened to them, and it was like a test bed to anticipate to your friends, 'Damn, get ready for the next record bomb.' Then you waited for the review to come out in the magazine of the moment, hoping to confirm your acumen. I heard 'Fly Away' that evening, and then 'Welcome To Dead Town.' Fly Away, the omen, rounded melodies, perfect and clear.

Guitars like the explosion of summer and the urge to live fast. 'Welcome To Dead Town', simple words, banal, adolescent, threaded together chorally on a rhythmic carpet embroidered with lysergic phrases. Guys, we're not the only ones to complain about the provincial boredom that grips us in winter, here, near the sea. But now it's over, damn it, summer has arrived, Psych Out is out, and it does not disappoint expectations. I told you it was awesome. Blast it on the radio at the beach while we play beach volleyball and crash against the dreaded 'Church Group'. Melodies that never betray, not even for an instant. Let's perform, burdel, let others know we are different and we listen to this stuff. That only we are so boastful as to know it. The summer burned, quickly, 'Psych Out', its choruses, its guitars, and the intriguing wah wah of the title track, the ultimate soundtrack of our eighteen years. Without faltering or weaknesses, dynamism and energy of an entire season.

Sorry guys, I shouldn't be reviewing this album as if I listened to it today, I don't know how much it would capture my attention and my now time-deprived heart. But everything belongs to an era, and everything is relative, and now I've written this review, and I can't refrain from clicking the button that says, "Send this whopper of a review." Click.