[record reviews: trust us]
Motorpsycho: Trust us
Review of Trust Us taken from the
FOR A COUNTRY WHOSE ANCIENT legends blessed heavy metal with an entire strand of iconography, Norway's actual rock heritage is pretty negligible. No offence to Tiny Too, but A-ha, some satan-worshipping grimcore nutjobs and the brunette out of Abba don't exactly fit the bill. But here's the fourth album from a Trondheim power trio to suggest it's all merely a communication breakdown; for if there were ever a band worthy of gratuitous references to Thor, Valhalla, Vikings, or the suggestion that they wield a godlike hammer, it is Motorpsycho.
Consider the rampant ambition and scope of 'Trust Us'. Essentially, Motorpsycho rock with all the vehemence of a group of childhood pals who just discovered they were the collective loinspawn of a gruesome orgy involving Iggy Pop, John Coltrane, some elves, Led Zeppelin (all of them) and Dylan (the rabbit off Magic Roundabout). That's right: riffs howling with indignation that the Pumpkins are still indulged by a lamebrain populace, free-form sax skronk to curdle one's stomach juices and third eyes so righteously squeegeed they can spot crops of psilocybin mushrooms from outer space. Err, and silly lyrics: "That's just the way we are, our heads in the ozone and our minds in Shangri-la" ('Ozone').
For Motorpsycho, space is a place both out there and within, and they refuse to desist from their often gauche but powerful customising of rock's hallucinogenic heritage until the rest of us concur. In truth, 'Trust Us' peaks with opener 'Psychonaut' - essentially the MC5 live from the Death Star, gonzoid meltdown at its most seditious - but succeeds in sustaining the trance throughout the bulk of its epic, polysymphonic duration.
Their producer is called Deathprod and they're gonna rule the world. Nul points? No way - Motorpsycho have smashed the Nordic egg into oblivion.