Dr. Robert brought us all here to the middle of nowhere, or perhaps the headquarters of the League of Spiritual Deliverance.
At any rate, we drove 3,000 miles to be lost and confused. Thankfully there’s a guiding light through the haze of multi-colored confusion.
Melding in a dreamy swagger somewhere between desert rock and retro dyes, emanating a cool sense of comfort and belonging, Tempesst settles us all down in Doomsday.
The second EP of the swirling, mesmerizing sound from London’s dream-breathing Tempesst (Toma Banjanin, Andy Banjanin, Eric Weber, Kane Reynolds, and Blake Misipeka) sparks a psych-pop-rolling wave of four tracks that bear down on you like a blissful kaleidoscope of sonic beauty.
Compiled of chill waves of rolling astral funk laden riffs and Technicolor breakdowns, Doomsday makes it hard to decipher the messages of uncertainty and mortality woven within the webs of layered harmonies and simply irresistible grooves. Bleeding experimentation influence of 60s and 70s, complete with dangerously slick riffs and synth whimsy, Tempesst draws a heavy bow across sounds that are vividly conscious and subconsciously catchy.
Like staring into a psych-pop chasm and finding an oddly comforting spiritual experience
Without the large dancing oddities, Mr. Kite inclusion of Eddie Izzard, and the glorious handle bar mustache of Dr. Robert, in the similar “What the hell am I looking at?”-meets-“shhhh, just experience it all”, Tempesst evokes a sense of Doomsday that is beautifully executed.
In short, everybody back on the bus, we’re heading home. We’re listening to Tempesst’s Doomsday, I don’t care if you don’t live in California.
Greg is a co-founder and regular contributor of Nanobot Rock.