Radar Men From The Moon enunciate cold existentialistic theorems and chasing them along the arid soul highways in an incessant search for geometric splendor, obsessive feedback and cloaked in Zen.
These Dutch psych dudes are an art collective who approach music as an experimental give. Totalizing experience, psychic, magmatic and massive landscape.
In this album, they push on the avant-gard side of their personality, keeping still in the heart of the cosmic blues sensations, covered with heavy psych armor.
Amon Duul II, Can, LA Dusseldorf, industrial music, tribal techno marked Tresor are the golden faceted sensations that collide in the new RMFTM sound. It’s the blues jamming with love with Detroit lost sounds of computers.
Ambient overtures proceed in growing to become Wagner’s progression and spurious post-punk and shoegaze, bleeding hearts broken by music that is perceived as selfish artistic monolith, an experience that requires the attention of the listener, the sound waves of savage steel industry, a music that cannot be heard in the headphones, maybe intent on doing something else. Music mantra of vibrant belief, to listen through speakers to the maximum volume, with air ripples running through your bones until they vibe like a tuning fork, skin orgasms, the cartilage of the spine that goes crazy.
Freud, sexuality, destruction, destruction of sexuality as a corollary for purification. Volcanic sounds as a prelude to the Tabula Rasa on which rebuild our lives.
It is, as usual, an instrumental album, of incessant angular beats, sometimes distant notes that appear to come from the end of the Universe, beatings guitars, basses raped, styles that run to replenish itself in entities, supported mostly by hypnotic celestial static experiments. A hard living of their introspection, as it is reflected in it until it reaches a magnificent eloquence, a sort of telepathy where words are useless ruins.
“Translucent Concrete” lives on the balance of incessant bass lines, but if you pay attention, you can see, in depth, a range of feelings and colors that are waiting to be discovered to transport us into a dimension out of the body.
“Subversive II” it’s the most kraut inside an album where the Teutonic beats are the masters. A creative process with frequent stop and go. Mercilessly guitars and ruthless synths, bass stabs as to create a lava sound that is deconstructed and reassembled in a warehouse used as a rave party.
A mature album, personal, and contemplative, which is worth listening to, at maximum volume possible, this safe, but if you can, don’t miss them live, where you can live the experience of this miraculous music at right volume to get the results they are looking for.
You can pre-order the album at: The Fuzz Club