by Jeff Milo
The day of the Pre-Party marks the debut of Infinity People's "In Love With The Light."
Listen to some samples...
This is (...but if you ask them, is not) a super-group - it brings together various eclectic musical minds, a variety of psychedelic-inclined, avant-gardist atmospheric composers from the likes of His Name Is Alive, The Go, F'ke Blood and numerous other singer/songwriter-satellites of New Detroit and the UFO Factory.
There's a sweet and spectral allure to this almost overwhelming odyssey, chant-fueled, haunting harmony-bolstered psychedelic folk songs channeled through a fuzzy half-dream, half-nightmare filter. Their spooky syphonies -with all the varying elements, be it the august organ wheeze, the alien buzz bleat of pedal-pushed guitars, the dizzying sheets of echo and mesmeric delay or those chilly yet beautiful harmonized choruses, come together to affect epic-feeling auras that make you feel under-dressed if you don't happen to be clad in white silken robes.
It's biggest win, though, seems to be it's listenability - despite the provocative, highly-experimental nature known to permeate the works of many of those involved and despite that more than a few tracks surpass the 7-minute-mark, this is actually something any green-blooded psychedelic rock music fan could intuitively mine their way into...set up a camp inside their cacophonous cave and join the drum circle, howl along to these haunted beats.
Antiquarian/literary rap agitator Doc Waffles joins dynamic hip-hop duo Passalacqua on this split 7” with funk/soul quintet House Phone. The trio of wordsmiths bite back at all those perplexed gawkers, whether its those standing and just staring back at them in the audience at shows or the stuffy squares whirling by them on any given rat raced weekday.
Typical of Waffles is his spill of zingy, evocative clashes of unpredictable poetics while MCs Mister and Blaksmith commiserate with their own oddball, sharp elbowed rhymes.
There's a video for "Dead Fish Eyes" streaming, starting this weekend up on Passalacqua's site.
House Phone, with “Crayons,” brings warm and sonorous guitars to organs that start roaring and chiming together, first purring all demure and starry-eyed, but soon building in fervor to this shimmering crescendo for the quintet's slow-dancing slice against cut and dry summations that futilely try shooing away life’s colorful complications. (Read about this group inside the printed pages of this week's issue.
Here's "a version" - not quite "the" version, but still a sample:
House Phone - "Crayons" (The Gift Catalog EP)