Robo-spazmatazz genre-splicers An Albatross pack more riffs, time changes, and esoteric rock references in one song than many bands jam into an entire album. Fitting for a bunch of dudes whose credo is some sort of mystical mumbo jumbo of cosmic love, fantasy animals, sci-fi weirdness, and-- as the new album expounds on-- space pilgrimages in search of world peace and harmony. And yet, I think they're serious! These love-in rambles only give the ballistic tunes that much more cheeky appeal. For their third full-length, The Family Album, AA continue their psychedelic aural terror, but dig deeper into the annals of kraut and classic rockdom.
No doubt influenced by extremo screamo acts like Blood Brothers, At the Drive-In, and the Locust, their breakout EP We Are the Lazer Viking-- and to a lesser extent their second full-length, Blessphemy... of the Peace Beast Feastgiver and the Bear Warp Kumite-- displayed a grindcore/prog-rock hybrid with lots of new-wave synths and dancey spastic grooves. Whereas Blessphemy turned away from the new wave-y stylings in lieu of more organ sounds (Farfisa and Hammond B3) and space synths (Moog and Korg), Family expands on this golden age of keyboard rock (ELP, Deep Purple, King Crimson, Yes). If it weren't for the numbers-crunching turbo drumming, the engine of this operation would have to be keyboardist Phillip Price who seamlessly alternates between sleek interstellar atmospherics, shrieking dissonant attacks, rolling vamps, and carnival-esque monkey grinds. Take "...And Now Emerges The Silver Pilgrim", a sideways butt-shakin' number that vibes Arab on Radar (surely another big influence) but within its short two-minute run, flips between Herbie Hancock-like DayGlo splats and three-ringed clown-car chasing.
The biggest change in the songs is the way they take already overstuffed freak outs-- usually averaging two and a half minutes-- and add even more textures to ramp up the epic feel: Album closer "3,000 Light Years By Way of the Spacehawk" (one of two songs clocking in over six minutes) adds a string section to the cacophony of vocalist Eddie B. Gieda III's bird-like squawk and the band's space truckin' rumble. "The Psychonaut & The Rustbelt" explores a kind of Oingo Boingo vaudevillian boogie complete with saxophone, death-metal blast beats, and Gieda's David Yow-channeling howls; and "A Convivial Feast of the Peace Beast" highlights "Riverdance"-on-meth jigs with xylophone sprinkles. Album showpiece "The Hymn of the Angel People" pairs more turbo circus music with highbrow art rock: Halfway through the jam, things unravel into a tranquil angelic keyboard-and-saxophone-driven celestial hum where the band ethos gets pontificated by a British-accented poetry-reciting female. Not your dad's prog rock, but equally as smart and a damn sight more engaging.
