For whatever reason—likely because I just moved to the East Coast and am feeling bookish, pretentious, and listening to a lot of avant-garde rubbish—I wanted to proclaim, “I’m over the whole surf rock thing.” It’s some kind of pointless liberation from a perfectly pleasant era of hanging out on beaches, getting a tan, and gazing at palm trees.
One track into Slipper Imp and Shakaerator by Babe Rainbow, and it’s clear: I haven’t outgrown those sun-drenched tropes. Going to the beach and crushing a few brews still rules—much like this album.
I’ve been into Babe Rainbow for a while. Their Gold Coast spin on Doorsian psychedelia has always worked for me. There’s something in their delivery that convinces me these guys actually do hang out on the beach and eat mushrooms together—an insouciance I, as a working stiff, must tip my hat to.
“What Is Ashwagandha” kicks things off with a delightfully stoned blend of Beck-ish groove, a little flute, and some Deadhead flange. “LONG LIVE THE WILDERNESS” picks up right where it leaves off—a seamless soft-drug come-up.
“Now and Zen” opens like a moment of hushed contemplation before easing back into that familiar groove. And that groove is what propels the record—shape-shifting from ‘90s haze to dub and back again. The truly transcendental moments come when the band pulls back. “Apollonia,” an instrumental piece of acoustic haze and modular synth swirl, is a standout—my favorite track and a spectacular slice of timeless psychedelia.
Later on, “Aquarium Cowgirl” jumps out as a flip-side highlight. A charming little pop nugget, it channels the whimsical, lo-fi craft of someone like Ariel Pink—well-wrought but a little cracked around the edges.
Overall, it’s another great record from a band that continues to float above an oversaturated genre. There are a lot of familiar pieces in play, but Babe Rainbow have a way of arranging them that still feels fresh.
There are beaches in New York, right?
