"I want to create an island universe with another person-- either the listener or a lover-- so that we can share the same feelings and things," Feeding People singer Jessie Jones said, referring to the title of the California five-piece's second album. When choosing her desert island discs, she wasn't exactly picky: Island Universe feeds off meandering Strange Days interludes, Sabbath sludge, and the loud, fast riffs of Black Lips and Davila 666, the band's one-time label Burger Records label mates. These disparate strands are tied together by Jones' distinctive voice, but only just.
Guitarist Louis Filliger writes most of the songs, though their many personalities could be attributed to the way Jones performs. "I feel like I channel other people's emotions and different unseen entities," she told the OC Weekly. "I hear inside voices," she yowls on "Inside Voices", which shifts more traditionally between tight fills and loose comedowns. "Everybody's sick and tired of being bored." Thankfully, Feeding People don't match spiritual ennui with musical torpor; the band's volume and reckless rhythms take care of that.
That's likely down to Island Universe's two distinctive producers: Hanni El Khatib is known for his electroshocking blues, while Jonny Bell of Crystal Antlers specializes in more lighthearted psychedelic pop. Both styles are present in the transitions between "Other Side"-- which accesses its friends in the ether through a neat two minutes of interlocking guitar-- the tranquil "Island Universe" (allegedly inspired by the classic romanticism of "My Girl"), and the momentum-powering "Big Mother", where Jones really unhinges her jaw, as if channeling Screaming Females' Marissa Paternoster.
The first half is then sealed with "Uranium Sea" and "Insane", which respectively deal in pummeling riffs, and invocations of the Golden State ("Cali is calling me!"). The band seems to be having the most fun here: Jones takes her time enunciating each vowel and Filliger indulges in noisy tangents with gospel-like fervor. "The Cat Song (Secrets of Luna)", however, throws a wet blanket on the beginning of the second half, which struggles with an identity crisis.
Backed by violins and flutes, Jones' warbling on "Cat Song" comes off too serious, especially after the hair-raising tracks that precede it. The prosaically titled album closer "Closer" aims for an epic build but the attempt sounds contrived rather than anthemic. Getting weird in their own way sometimes suits Feeding People best. Though it doesn't fit the album's flow, "Desert Song" is still entertaining, like an exotic dancer turning up at the wrong party, although even then, Jones' spoken-word tangent about desert sand, cactus roses, and nothingness barely works. "Red Queen" is a demented dirge that aspires to Page and Bonham levels of burned-out one-upmanship between Filliger and drummer Mike Reinhart.
Feeding People's energy is abundant and undeniable, but all over the place on Island Universe. Despite abandoning any sense of sequencing on the second half, they're clearly aware of the power of a good album arc, but they couldn't quite pull it together and their psychedelic compulsions can seem out of place. As it is, Jones' idea about some shared emotional and spiritual paradise is lovely, but her band's directions don't make it easy to get there.
