West
Supreme psych-drone rockers Wooden Shjips must have figured out that if they traveled any more inward they just might turn themselves inside out. On their third studio album, the Shjips’ trance-inducing drones feel more focused and goal-oriented, cruising on elasticized, fuzz-encrusted guitar and keyboard notes with unwavering determination to reach a destination. The Shjips will likely never land their songs on vampiric TV shows or nighttime soaps, and it’s unlikely they’ll be on “modern rock” radio anytime soon. But we can certainly envision tracks like the swirling and murky “Black Smoke Rise“ and the propulsive “Lazy Bones” on the soundtrack of an edgy Tarantino flick featuring murderous bikers on acid, and we can see the shockingly “peppy” melody of “Looking Out” getting a remix treatment by Trent Reznor for a Jeep commercial. There *are* other places to go with Wooden Shjips’ music besides one’s own navel, and *West* is a fine launching pad.
Wooden Shjips turn the crunchy choogle of 1970s boogie-rock into isolation-chamber space-out fare. When it connects, that's a powerful formula. On West, the SF space-rockers make their biggest leap toward approachability, creating the first Wooden Shjips album your stoner uncle might not hate.
Psych-rock outfits like Wooden Shjips are supposed to specialize in mind-shredding head music for stationary stoners. The San Francisco’s band latest album, West, has plenty of that—dig the self-explanatory opener “Black Smoke Rise”—but it also speaks surprisingly well to the hips. Buried beneath the endlessly…
After two albums and ten EPS, singles, etc., it's fair to ask if we really need another Wooden Shjips record.
Although just seven songs long, the third album from San Francisco psychedelic rockers Wooden Shjips is a remarkably dense, intense affair.
Wooden Shjips' marriage of garage-band R&B to acid-fried psychedelia is utterly single-minded – and rather thrilling, writes <strong>Michael Hann</strong>