• Rating:
In the insert of a cherished psychedelic record, I read in music there is truth, a simple statement that always leaves me pondering, a bit like when I lose the logical sense of space-time listening to Yawning Man; firstly, a band of immense scope, their music seems to take you to the most remote places from civilization, but I would also blame the fumes of the big one that can't spoil these digressions; cataramanic, remote, fossil remains of aliens, it's no wonder that some youngsters, seeing them live, got so into it that they formed Kyuss;
desert rock then, but the perpetual echo on the riffs doesn't convey desolation, rather extremely vast expanses; after all, Yawning Man spent the second half of the eighties yawning at generator parties held in the legendary nude bowl, a situation that gathered many indolents who would later start stoner rock; nonetheless, they waited twenty years to record and this third LP of theirs is dated two thousand ten.
I don't think it describes the music they actually made at the time, but it perfectly aligns with the situation; they would wait for sunset to play and, unlike the only demo from the 80s, words are not given a voice on this record, a necessary condition to stretch the three-dimensionality of these jams on which I adore the approach to variations; landscape music, it eliminates the differences between being light and empty, it makes it seem that between saying and doing it's better not to think, the surf guitarism glides over the clouds, the riffs are extremely narrative while everything else flows.
quite psychedelic, they sound acid and create moiré effects, in every song the instruments continuously sail away, they are in constant abandonment, I would say that those who do not feel nostalgic can ignore much of their music; the melodies set eternally, post-surf-space-rock that leaves just enough light, the minimum to at least see the stars.
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