Screen Frogs Ace the Psych-Rock Test on their Debut Album
Psych rock! You might love it, you might hate it, but you can’t deny that it’s one of the last load-bearing pillars keeping the genre dry amid those rising sea levels. Personally, I think that’s because it’s not an easy thing to pull off. Not only does the music take real technical skill from every contributor, but it also needs to be produced correctly - preferably, in today’s retromanic era, in vintage hues.
Though Seattle’s Screen Frogs haven’t been a band for a long time, you wouldn’t know it based on their debut album. Subterranean Wreckage Amidst Stolen Hues, released back in April, lays its conceit down confidently; we’re very good at what we do, and we’re not gonna waste any time hiding it. Its length makes it a little hard to crack open at first; opening track “Hearth 1” is over ten minutes long, only slightly overstaying its welcome. More importantly, it earns its itineracy by keeping the scenery engaging, as the band stuffs it with subversive speed switches and hypnotic melodies.
Let’s address the mutated elephant in the room; it’s impossible not to draw comparisons between this record and the sprawling discography of Australian psych juggernauts King Gizzard and the Lizard Wizard. Even putting the length of the record aside, their DNA is embedded in that aforementioned sepia production, handled between Shoreline’s Robert Lang Studios and SODO’s Mysterious Red X. It’s in the subject material, with its conceptual adherence to apocalyptic imagery and and playful characterizations of ooze and bugs. It’s in the way the band structures the album, with its suite-like flow and bookending “Hearths,” both of which add sitar (courtesy of drummer Scott Minnich) to the mix. It’s in the songs’ rapidly changing tempos, it’s in the winding guitar lines, and it’s especially in the delay-coated yelps of whichever Bacon brother is helming vocals. Even the zurna, a Eurasian reeded wind instrument that Will Bacon employs on “Xenesthis Imannis” and “Transistor,” calls back to Gizzard’s 2017 album Flying Microtonal Banana.
This is all a compliment, not a knock. If you’re gonna pull from a blueprint, pull from one of the greats, and do it with the verve and attention to detail that Screen Frogs do here. (If anything, it confirms how impactful the band’s KEXP Gathering Space set from 2018 had ended up being.)
Throughout SWASH, Screen Frogs confidently re-replicate King Gizzard’s progressive psych rock of yore better than most bands, local or otherwise. It’s also not just simulacra; as the record progresses, you might sense a heavier emphasis on tunefulness over sheer energy. I hear it particularly on highlight “Fly on the Wall,” with its monster chords and grin-inducing, amplified jazz flute breakdown.
If any of that appeals to you, you’re gonna love this record. My big selfish question, assuming they make more music (and I really hope they do, given their talent), is whether or not they eventually disengage from Gizzard’s gravitational orbit and form their own path. But even if all Screen Frogs aspire to be is a branch on that tree, they come out the gate more than capable of creating wicked fun, wicked engaging music.