While psychedelic blues rockers Birds of Maya have settled into performing a handful of shows each year, the band has spawned side projects Purling Hiss and Spacin’, which have turned into its founders’ mainstays as of late. The former led by Mike Polizze’s ferocious, snarling guitar work has already released albums on well-respected indie labels (Mexican Summer, Woodsist, Permanent Records, Richie Records) and toured with the likes of The War on Drugs, Dr. Dog and now Wilco. However, I’m here to talk about the latter. Former punk kid and now early ‘70s Grateful Dead lover, Jason Killinger, invaded my subconscious when his solo lo-fi demos “Ego-go” and “When You Come Around” surfaced on Bandcamp last year under the moniker Spacin’. Since then, he has recruited Acid Kicks’ Sean Hamilton on bass, wife Eva Killinger on skins, and Paul Sukeena (formerly of The Spooks) on electric guitar to flesh out sounds to complement his effortless stream of melodies and experimental hijinks.
The cover of their debut album Deep Thuds (Richie Records) hints at what you may find on the vinyl with a play on the Rolling Stone’s iconic Sticky Fingers cover, which is altered with a dripping, melt-y tongue indicating classic psych rock is alive and well. From the opening words of “yeah, rip it” followed by the good time power chord progressions of “Empty Mind,” you’ll find Killinger, with a laidback drawl, delivering some rock ‘n’ roll zen with the song’s opening line: “All I want is an empty mind.” It’s a sort of shoshin (meaning “beginner’s mind”) that Zen Buddhist strive to achieve. The track invites its listeners to rid themselves of the preconceived notions of what music should be blasting through their stereo speakers. Challenging those preconceptions, the outro jam fades into the ambient noise of “Some Future Burger,” a whimsically named instrumental that pulsates. Guitar lines ring out like sirens warning villagers about a storm on the horizon. Thunder-crashing-freak-out chords are added into the mix to awaken the senses reminding you that there is still a lot more music to go on the album. The jam’s dark, eerie ambience is abruptly interrupted catching you off guard as sleazy rocker “Wrong Street” takes over followed by “Chest of Steel” with its anthemic strums and delectable guitar licks interwoven to close out the first side of the vinyl. Side B’s “Oh Man” starts off briefly frenetic before dropping into its jungle boogie groove, while later on, parts of the track remind me of something that might be found on The Flaming Lips’ Embryonic. “Sunshine No Shoes” provides a taste of the rockin’ honky-tonk blues that so influenced a generation of musicians. Deep Thuds ends where the origins of the album might have begun – the party rock vibes of “Ego-go,” but the lo-fi ear-catcher has been filled out sonically on its album version, and like a lot of the record, it leaves itself wide-open for live experimentation.
What Deep Thuds successfully accomplishes is capturing the feeling of those late-night after-hours jam sessions in your friend’s basement when your lost in the communal vibrations with your friends (and ther are no mics around to record). The album has a timeless, youthful feeling that good rock ‘n’ roll can bring out in all of us. – Q.D. Tran
