It seems that with every new invention, each successive innovation that comes along to enrich our lives, it brings new baggage, another way to grind us down or make us feel less than. Over time this feeling accumulates and results in psychological, or psychic, tension, a near-constant mental pressure that threatens to drown us in our own progress. Dead Sea Apes’ latest album Psychic Tension, on the other hand, is a freeing experience, one that addresses the fraught nature of modern existence and provides a balm, usually through volume, distortion and an unstoppable rhythm section that will absolutely put your speaker system through its paces.
‘Damn Your Eyes’ slides the listener into discomfort, a steady bass pulse that never really shifts for the song’s length setting the pace as Brett Savage’s guitar weaves a violent and hypnotic dance, occasionally offering up odd squeals and tones that hover in the murk like disgruntled spirits, at others presenting a tsunami of sound that rushes to engulf the listener in a squall of white noise. The disconnect between rigid rhythms and Savage’s unpredictable textures are a large part of what makes it a disquieting effort, the sensation of a mind locked into a groove while simultaneously seeking familiarity.
Meanwhile, the title track wastes little time in ramping up the aggression, Jack Toker’s bass a barely restrained beast from the outset as Chris Hardman beats out a harsh, almost primitive rhythm. Savage’s contributions are no less blunt, an initial rush of sound eventually making way for a wild, fiery performance that shows off not just his technical prowess but also his mastery of tone, stretching his instrument’s range through passages of flash-fried desert rock and fuzzed-out Americana.
If both of these cuts strive to replicate the violence and tension that assault our collective subconscious on the regular, ‘Severance’ feels like the first real attempt to alleviate it with its initial onslaught of chaos and fuzz giving way to a hypnotic lead break that gradually shifts into something more subliminal. Savage offers up a call-and-response to himself, each massive riff mirrored by something more ephemeral, solid one moment and woozily off-kilter the next, all as Toner and Hardman try their level best to maintain course while matching their comrade’s wild energy.
The mammoth ‘Ursa Minor’ picks up the Americana thread of ‘Psychic Tension,’ Graves’ bluesy turn not a million miles from Pentastar-era Dylan Carlson as he steadily charts a course across barren deserts and yawning chasms. Despite its length, this really feels like the trio are operating at their most cohesive, the straightforwardness of Toner’s basswork and Hardman’s impeccable control providing the ideal framework for Savage as he drifts between hazy minimalism and ascendant psych-rock.
Bringing the suite to a close is ‘Deathless’, the end result of all that cathartic fury and mental taxation being brought gently back down to earth. Even when the trio really kick in, abruptly shifting from unhurried fuzz into a three-pronged pummel, there is a sense of finality, of the psyche being able to scream freely and without restraint. Much as with the rest of the album, Savage’s use of melody is noticeably restrained, instead focussing on building atmosphere before launching into another frenzied burst of sound.
Considering Dead Sea Apes’ output over the years, what has always been remarkable is the honesty of their approach; Psychic Tension is no exception. From the songwriting through to the production and execution, this record feels huge, raw and unwieldy, never really committing to a single mood or even genre but instead acting as a channel for the three brilliant and idiosyncratic minds behind it. It demands attention and focus, and it definitely earns the right to demand whatever it wants.
