Album Review: Dreamtime - Sun

It seemed for a time that psych rock had become extinct in the Brisbane music scene, pushed further and further to the corners until it became a distant memory. Someone forgot to tell Dreamtime, a trio that unabashedly mine the depths of drone psychedelia that acolytes of late-'60s acid washouts get the withdrawal shakes over. Following quickly on the heels of last year's self-titled debut, Sun more than lives up to its predecessor's promise.

Opening with “single” Centre Of Mind, a song that could have been found on the cutting-room floor of a Black Angels session (minus the ethereal female backing vocals), Sun lays it on thick and refuses to veer from the chosen path. The droning beauty that is Baphomet benefits from vocalist Zac Anderson's vocal depth, skittish percussion and squalling guitar augmented by throat music-inspired mantras before the feverish dirge breaks through. The Road takes us on a more languid yet no less insistent sojourn, before the organ and tribal drums break down the ephemeral instrumental Equivalence. The title track creeps forward with husky intent before taking off into the stratosphere, a visceral explosion that the trio handle with dexterity and flair. Brujeria feels like a backing track from the score of El Topo, and closer Art Of Invisibility throws it all together in a seductive spiral of destruction, all 13 minutes of it.

Don't be fooled though – although most tracks are formed around elongated jams within the practice room, Dreamtime are a tightly-coiled unit – Anderson would be left anchorless if not for Cat Maddin's sonorous voice and pinpoint basslines, both driving the groove forward and hammering it to the spot, and some cataclysmic drumming from Tara Wardrop. Sun should ignite a psych rock movement.