From i-94, Craig Barman says: “ LIsten up cos you gotta hear the new Sand Pebbles album, Here's a second review.”
http://www.i94bar.com/albums/pleasure-maps-sand-pebbles-kasumen-records
Have The Sand Pebbles made a bad album? I’ve heard or own half of them and they’re full of some of the most surreally fascinating, textured and immersive psychedelic music to come from an Australian band in the last 20 years. “Pleasure Maps” continues what’s more a body-of-work than a discernible progression.
A rant by Bruce Milne on Facebook initially piqued my interest. The ex-Au Go Go label/shop head posted his instant, first listen take-out that “Pleasure Maps” was killer. Patrick Emery’s review below takes it from there. I’ll just try to add something else.
The Sand Pebbles are a six-piece with a relatively stable core membership that’s become a long-running if not regularly visible fixture on the Melbourne music scene.
“Pleasure Maps” runs from lush psych (“I Heard The Owl Call My Name”) to folky pop (“Lovers’ Love”) all the way back to shimmering rock pop (most of the others.) Occasional augmentation (lots of cello, keys, Amaya Laucircia’s wonderful backing vocals) adds to the layers of sound.
There’s a sense that The Sand Pebbles are a band that plays and/or records only when they are in the mood and have something to say. Rotating the vocals between guitarists Tor Larsen, Andrew Tanner and Malcolm McDowell adds tonal variety. Obvious mastery of the studio - and myriad guitar effects - do the rest.
These are great songs, most of them co-written by various band members with TV scriptwriter and bassist Christopher Hollow. They sprawl, twist and turn and resist categorisation.
Lush sound abounds but you can always see (hear) shafts of light piercing their way through. These are long songs - “Friendlier Advice” tops 10 minutes - but you won’t notice. Case in point is the cover of “Oh! Sweet Nuthin!” that closes the CD version of “Pleasure Maps”. A Velvets cover? Really? Fortune favours the brave. It actually is a match for the original and a sublime duet, simultaneously dark and shiny.
Dunno if a comparison to The Church, sonically speaking, rings true or would go down very well with the band - Kilbey and Co sometimes disappeared up their own arses in their mid-period but appear to have asserted themselves in their dotage. There’s a parallel that both bands don’t feel obliged to lock themselves into one musical idiom. - The Barman
