Honey Radar’s lo-fi poetics are mesmerizing, gritty, and blunt. Raspy drums, straightforward riffs, and Jason Henn’s steady diction make the melody of each track feel urgent, a characteristic that effortlessly stitch cuts like “Pinwheel” and “Pan Music” into the memory of listeners. Much like 2016’s Black Cartoon, Honey Badar’s recent 7-inch Psychic Cruise feels like a subtle psych homage to indie icons like Guided by Voices, infused with the contemplative reverie of The Brian Jonestown Massacre.
Opening with “Untitled Fox,” the EP’s first anthem is delectably retro without being blindsided by sheer nostalgia. Tambourine, guitar, and the swagger of Henn’s vocals foster a sense of latent awareness, intertwined with nonchalance. Brief yet notable, the track sets the tone for Psychic Cruise’s progression, ushering its audience deeper into the labyrinth of the songwriter’s kaleidoscopic yet audibly muted visions.
“Knocked Out” brings to mind Yellow Fever’s “Psychedelic” or a cleaner sharper foil to Spacin’s “Ego-go.” Its persistent chords and rhythm become the prelude to Henn’s subdued yet alluring croons. “Psychic Cruise,” the 7-inch’s titular anthem, is cinematic in a washed-out, dreamy way that brings to mind the garage-y thrill of Bleached’s “No Friend of Mind” or earworms like L.A. Witch’s “Get Lost.” The amalgamation of Henn’s voice and the hiss of snare result in a short yet vivid portrait of wanderlust as metaphor.
With equal concision, Honey Radar’s “Medium Mary Todd” unfolds without hesitation, allowing the swell of buzzing guitar to cast a spell of sorts, making the recording feel like a vision or a rock ‘n’ roll fever dream. The track channels the atmospheric mood of Far-Out Fangtooth and the frenetic energy of Jay Reatard’s softest interior. The perfect primer to Psychic Cruise’s final track, “Medium Mary Todd” keeps the tempo and mood of the 7-inch’s end palpably visceral. As “Moon Director” begins, fuzzy riffs and cymbals cultivate a layer of swirling sounds that force the audience to listen closer as a nearly instrumental end collides with clips of conversation and would-be transmissions. In its final moments “Moon Director” feels more like a commentary on communication than an homage to mankind’s achievements, perhaps suggesting that progress often times coincides with chaos.
Easy to consume in one sitting, yet difficult to dismiss, Psychic Cruise is a salve for the listless. These songs will reel you in. – Dianca London