Goods Yard, Brighton Station
Either the acid has got a lot weaker recently or the definition of what qualifies as psychedelic music has been widened to the point of rendering the word meaningless. A term alluding to potential hallucinatory experiences of the audience has come to be associated with pleasant(ish) kraut influenced rock music or straight up 60’s-70’s revivals . Generally, the most ‘far out’ thing about modern psych bands are their bills at Toni and Guy.
Enter Fumaca Preta – pronounced Foomassa Pretta and meaning Black Smoke – and their self titled album, released last month. Its mind-bending array of sounds ranges across garage-rock, tropicalia, Latin psych, Afro-Caribbean, vocal group and even a hint of metal. It recalls the work of Tom Ze, who to the uninitiated was a Brazilian multi-instrumentalist hooked into the same dadaist instincts of Captain Beefheart or Frank Zappa.
However, unlike those trailblazers, where Fumaca Preta excel is they very rarely lose sight of the dancefloor, despite those numerous influences and an ever-present feeling of almost breaking apart. This makes for a fresh, invigorating experience, challenging and yet fun. Their music is tinted with with accessible nostalgia that constantly draws you in; it’s the soundtrack to a party you never want to leave.
There’s also a local connection, with Stuart Carter and James Porch of Brighton funk band The Grits featuring in the line-up.
In support, The Rhubarb Triangle aren’t a pretty useless sounding musical instrument, but a four-piece experimental rock band named after the area famous for growing the sour vegetable where the majority of the band grew up. They’ve now moved to London and their 7″ single released earlier this year suggests a variety that should be interesting. The A side, cheekily titled ‘Wakefield City Blues’, is an enjoyable Doorsesque number that flies off the handle half way through. The moody, intense, freak blues of B-Side ‘Bloodhound’ is infinitely more original.
Opening act The Lucid Experiment are from Hastings. They are a mainly instrumental act – bar a few soothing lyric-less chants – who appear to be just as happy riding big riffs as they are in post-rock territory.