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At first glance it would be easy to dismiss Psychedelic Porn Crumpets as some kind of elaborate joke sent over from the former colonies.
For sure, their name suggests the results of a three-day bender, while the music – an amalgam of psychedelia, prog, space rock and punk all concocted and mixed in a garage that possibly doubles up as an after-hours LSD lab – can overwhelm and bamboozle.
And yet, for all that, there’s plenty here to enjoy and savour once the reorientation of the senses has been achieved
The fourth album from these Aussies gallops at a breathless pace, its 14 tracks crashing into one other with scant regard for personal safety.
Peeling away the layers, it’s easy to see why. Tally-Ho’s celebration of irresponsible hedonism (‘One more line of avalanche winterland handicap, bleeding from the nostril’) is evoked brilliantly by a well-drilled band adept at firing off twisting riffs and spluttering time signatures.
Elsewhere Glitter Bug evokes Yes, albeit compressed from a Topographic Ocean into a sparkling nugget. Exuberant throughout, PPC’s trip has notched up a gear.
