morphic resident

Let’s not beat about the proverbial bush, the following has been copied n’ pasted, a mission statement, as were, from – well I’ll let them, more’s the point him, introduce himself ……

‘Morphic Resident, a scuzzy messy electronic dub shit thing ignorant to style, ignorant to everything bunkered down in a fortress of indifference as to whether it”s good, bad or just fucking ugly. Used unflushable panty pads of synths Bob around bucket abortion bass, cheap beats and unmelodicas. Guitars set to stun and vocals set deeper than Fred West’s basement.’

Sounds quite grim doesn’t it, the kind of thing, that going on description alone, you’d probably cross the street to avoid. Except, that the mere mention of two overriding unknowns, might make you think again and cautiously embrace the challenge to maybe take a brief little peak behind the hyperbolic false feeding advertising. So, here goes, Fred Laird and Riot Season. Now those of a certain musical parish, will be all too aware of the names Fred Laird and Riot Season, the former head honcho of the mighty Earthling Society – see progressive psych overlords, the latter, a label with an enviable niche for releasing seriously cool s**t from all the varying aspects of the multi-faceted sonic strata, whether that be stoner, psych, prog, noise or simply, total weird out groove – coincidentally, their latest from Acid Mothers have just dropped – more later. Anyhow, back to the job in hand, Morphic Resident. I’m suspecting we’ve got d/l’s for this which, knowing our impishly errant laptop, have been lost somewhere on the hard drive, seriously I’ve moaned enough about the technological woes to last a long life time. Pulled from the ‘transient head’ EP, this is the superbly hypnotic ‘free fall – no deal dub’. By the title alone you ought to gather that this is a classy exercise into the realms of trance toned dub, a head expanding journey into the inner consciousness and something that ought to appeal, first port of call, to those much attuned and sadly missed, those hulking spaced out ambi-psych happenings that used to head out of the Delirium trip factory in the 90’s, a mind mushrooming mosaic teased in cosmic flotillas, bonged campfire gatherings and spaghetti western echoes that all of which converge amorphously to at once, touch base with the likes of the Orb, Depth Charge and Bill Laswell.    

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