Album Review : Neon Indian - Psychic Chasms
- Written by Russell Warfield
Thump, thump, thump, thump...
Whilst I wouldn’t want to claim any sort of encyclopaedic knowledge of internet music journalism, there seems to me to be two specific musical aesthetics which have been especially successful in making bloggers cream themselves this year: lo-fi noise pop and one-man-and-his-laptop loops and samples. Neon Indian straddles both of these categories and, accordingly, is garnering a fair amount of e-attention. However, just as with any act who (presumably unwittingly) surfs the crest of a musical trend, the question is: should you believe the hype? I’d say no.
Thump, thump, thump, thump...
Initial signs for this act were pretty promising when album highlight ‘Deadbeat Summer’ appeared on the internet a few months ago. As the song splutters into motion, a stuttering wash of electronics swings freely in pitch along a dangerously loose melodic phrase serving as a great canvas on which to paint his song. Electronic riffs and guitar licks swim in and out of the mix beneath the well defined hooks of the songs’ verse and chorus. "Deadbeat summer/It’s just a deadbeat summer" isn’t going to win any awards for lyricism, but the irresistible, summery drawl of the song makes the thing a sultry little earwig – and, indeed, Neon Indian manages to pull off the same trick again a handful more times over the course of the album.
Thump, thump, thump, thump...
However, the main problem with this album is that, even with its brief half hour running time and multiple interludes, it manages to massively overstay its welcome. The first thing about the album with will make you raise a questionable eyebrow is that Neon Indian appears to have used the same, dull drum loop on every single song. Sure, it has a huge, thumping reverb-laden drum sound suitable to trip out too but, by the time you’ve heard a few songs, it feels like you’re just listening to an aggressive metronome. It makes the album very difficult to swallow in one sitting despite its brevity. Similarly, the trippy, acid-soaked bleeps and blips become more and more difficult to muster enthusiasm about. When Neon Indian doesn’t have the hooks he displays on his best songs, he simply buries his messy vocal lines under a blanket of loops and reverb.
Thump, thump, thump, thump....
At no point can Psychic Chasms be defined as flat out dislikeable or bad but it frequently sounds both uninspired and uninspiring. This is my quick test to help you determine whether or not you’ll want to give the album a spin: if you’ve gotten bored of reading thump, thump, thump, thump again and again throughout this review, chances are you’ll get just as bored of hearing it when listening to the album. Having Psychic Chasms on your iPod is by no means a bad thing: it’s more than welcome to pop up on shuffle for short blasts and its useful to have for making mix-tapes for specific occasions. It’s very difficult to imagine, however, anyone putting the disc in their stereo with the intention of just listening to the thing for its own sake.