Proxima by Stupid Cosmonaut

Release date: October 21, 2016
Label: Self-Released

If you’re looking for a band more familiar with Space Mountain than Ric Flair, then look no further. Stupid Cosmonaut it is an endeavour through the back of your mind to the furthest reaches of the universe. A contemplative, dazzling voyage into cosmical introspection that soothes and electrifies the listener.

‘Proxima Centauri’ descends slowly like a falling star into the horizon line. It’s astral guitar lines shimmer slowly into the album crafting an expressive proggy landscape of expansive tundras and cosmological infinity. Everything moving with a slow precision. Deep oceans of bass and volcanic pads dormant yet, simmering beneath the surface. The slow jam builds atmospherically creating a sense of dissolved calm before bursting into a violent eruption at the end.

Thick gooey droplets of brass set an otherworldly tone in ‘Centaurus’. It’s disassociated charm and fantastical element gives it a psychonautical element, that I for one, welcome. Its ribbon-like blades of synth ebbing gently at the foundation of the track reminds me of the red weed from War of The Worlds, although this album is only kind of similar to Jeff Wayne’s classic soundtrack. It is also fucking great. It should also be noted that the vocals or samples and the assured climax to the track both do their part in making it shine.

Proxima B concludes the album in a storm of spaced out guitars, spitting a burnt-out tide of distortion against brooding bolted chords. It’s the hazy malevolent comedown as the cosmonaut leaves orbit, kicking and screaming. Pulsating tension irritably careens through the veins of every element in the track simmering below boiling point. A track that says: Danger: Keep Away and thereby resonates and fascinates anybody willing to ride the rollercoaster of their own emotions and still find the time to say “fuck you” when unnecessarily pushed by the thoughtless actions of others. In other words, it’s like falling down, hitting the ground and realising your not dead yet and worse still you have all this shit to deal with, so you dust yourself off and carry on and that’s great.

Proxima takes you up to the highest point, spins you round and round and then drops you off the edge to watch your brains splatter. Your eyes pop out and undergo ten million rotations and then clouds form in the sockets and out spills all your thoughts and dreams and hopes and aspirations and before you know it your imagination’s running wild and you’re talking to yourself and thinking “wow, I’d love to see this person again sometime, I can’t believe we haven’t met before!” All in the process of introspection or in this case inside-out cerebral exploration.

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