SOMEWHERE in Holland Frédéric Chopin lives. The Polish composer, regarded in some circles as central in setting the tone for Gothic authors, musicians and teenagers thanks to his iconic composition ‘Marche Funèbre’, has to be sat around an amplifier in a dingy practice room in Amsterdam. It’s the only reason Dollkraut, the nomadic psychedelic revivalist, could create something as confounded as ‘Oblivian’ – the newest track supplied by the group before debut album ‘Holy Ghost People’ drops.
It’s a disturbing trip. Back to basics within their lo-fi, organic sound that made them a firm favourite in their earlier eps and singles, it represents a sound fusion of 60s psych meets Alfred Hitchcock horror.
‘Oblivian’ is a deformed trudge. Behind its oppressive drums, an organ follows gravely with mechanical whirrs emerging at will. Something feels dead, dying or indefensible. But out of this monotonous turmoil, comes a puncturing guitar that reigns in the panic with a moment of melody. It’s all a bit of a slurping jolt. But ultimately it finds its spot. ‘Holy Ghost People’ promises sounds that “feel like its escaped from a ‘Magical Mystery Tour’ session in the late 60’s”.
If this ‘Oblivian’ is anything to go by these Dollkraut bandits are on course to make 2017 even more disturbing than before. And with this world heading in such a perturbing direction, isn’t it great to finally have something even more uncomfortable to listen to whilst watching it all crumble?
Words by Clive Hammond