Liquid Pennies
Fore
Threat Collection Records
Veterans of the psychic wars, albeit with fewer tours of duty than Blue Oyster Cult or even their kindred spirits, Osees, Liquid Pennies wade into an exploratory “Echolalia,” the fiery and chaotic 11-minute centerpiece of their aurally adventurous fourth album Fore, with an abundance of caution. Only they know what lies ahead, and even they’re afraid.
Or so it would seem, as they float down celestial rivers of soothing synth into a gathering darkness, shooting stars crossing overhead and menace creeping underneath, buzzing, zapping freakouts on the horizon, clean guitars racing at unsafe speeds and electronica fried beyond repair, even though the circuitry somehow still works. Periods of eerie calm soon give way to manic meltdowns, controlled sequenced beats vanishing into thin air as blustery drums storm a gilded prog-fusion palace where The Mars Volta plots its own disorienting sonic rebellions and hoary, monstrous vocals thunder like an angry god. All synapses firing, it’s as mad or as crazed as Fore gets, although more epic uprisings and ambushes are to come.
Experimental without being tedious, wild and violent, but also occasionally tranquil and melodic, Fore is a strangely compelling, eclectic brew of psych-rock, doom metal, dark wave, indie-folk, canonical Krautrock drive, spiraling electro-clash, and narcotic post-punk hypnosis, with mellotron, tapes, field recordings, and drum machines thrown in for good measure. And yet, it’s not a complicated mess. Instead, it feels well-plotted, even cinematic at times, flowing with ideas and taking all kinds of risks, exemplified by an urgent and ominous, yet buoyant, “Elliptic Triptych” pogoing into washing sheets of noise and strange whirr, resurrecting Can’s brand of Kosmische with an insistent drive and coating it in fuzzy sleaze.
Abandoning guitars altogether, which is something new to Liquid Pennies, the trio of vocalist, guitarist, and synth wizard Chas Binns, bassist/synth provocateur Tysonious Mink, and drummer Pierson Whicker escape into the expansive and otherworldly drone brownout that is “Further Ennui” – nature sounds flitting around the perimeter – and the warped, synth-pop funhouse of “Ready Tide,” a steady, quickening drumbeat leading the way out. Setting it all in motion, the opener “Tapered Scape” is at first hauntingly hushed, yet also triggered as if being chased, before raiding Black Mountain for their tunics, their book of incantations, and heavy, atmospheric totems and falling headlong into radiant caves of blistering riffs and blinding light. Worthless as currency perhaps, Liquid Pennies are undoubtedly musical, lysergic gold on the black market.
