Chew – A Fine Accoutrement album review

Atlanta, Georgia spacewave trio Chew follow 2016’s 3D EP with a mini-album of barrier-trampling psych whoopee that marks their first UK release. With six tracks forged during their three-year US tour, guitarist/electronics man Brandon Pittman, bassist Brett Reagan and drummer Sarah ‘Snare-uh’ Wilson pile in on their array of guitars, percussion, vintage analogue keyboards and samplers to invoke space age visions prone to explosions of electronic starburst mutiny that could have been made 50 years ago in an acid manufacturer’s garage. The set’s bookended by two tracks riding similar spaceways to Sun Ra’s early 60s mysterioso nightclub organ vamps, Crunch upping the shimmer with synthesised squawks and gravity- defying wooziness injected by Reagan’s heaving bass. The title track evokes the Magic Band’s surrealistic bump and grind with block organ guitar riffs lashed by lysergic sparks, Golden manages to mate early 60s space- instro and stately prog organ themes with Sendelica-style axe cataclysm. All show psychedelia’s original no-holds-barred spirit alive and in very rude health.