Go ahead and read that name…
Psychedelic Porn Crumpets. Respond as needed, then set it to the side for about 33 minutes. Do likewise with
And Now for the Whatchamacallit, a blandly ambiguous title likely stemming from some inside joke shared by its four creators. Behind this veil of overt psych nuttiness lies a rather impressive album made with plenty of craft and attention to detail. On their first two releases, the Australian combo developed a riffy 21st century take on guitar-based psych rock, filtering the progressive elements of forebears like
Pink Floyd and
Soft Machine through more contemporary heroes like
Tame Impala and adding a dose of garage grit. Not nearly as wacky as their name suggests, they came out of the gate with the chops of a band who put in their time at the rehearsal space. On album number three,
PPC tighten their approach, turning in a more muscular and intricate set with some blazing guitar work and clever melodies. The dueling axes of Jack McEwan and Luke Parish are at the heart of the band's sound with the former also providing lead vocals. With its mighty guitarmonies and tuneful thump, the infectious "Bill's Mandolin" is the most immediately pleasing highlight here, though the soaring, spacy pomp of "Social Candy" and the labyrinthine layers of "Native Tongue" also offer plenty in terms of their musicality. Tucked inside the gaps are interesting tonal layers and little experimental shifts that expand the dimensions of what are otherwise, tightly built rock songs with great fuzzed-out riffs. It's a bit of a shame that the band's name may turn potential fans away at the door, but
PPC work pretty hard to overcome their self-imposed handicap and turn in an exciting and solidly built third LP. ~ Timothy Monger