Psychedelic Horseshit – Laced

Columbus, OH’s Psychedelic Horseshit want you to know what you’re getting into. From the multiple drug references in their name and album titles to the word ‘shit’ popping up in both their name and self-applied, made-up genre ‘shitgaze’, you should be prepared for what you hear when you pop their CD on. The psychedelia references are apt, with singer Matt Horseshit (pseudonym???) atonally mumbling out lyrics, mostly about what he likes, or on the flipside, doesn’t like very much (“I Hate The Beach”). From the horseshit end of things (horsebutt), their percussion reminds occasionally of a simulated trotting horse à la Monty Python, and almost everything else sounds like shit. Mind, this isn’t necessarily a bad thing. It’s an aural aesthetic, and these shitheads have a good handle on how to use it to their advantage, to orchestrate a cohesive album. The term ‘shitgaze’ is incredibly appropriate—Psychedelic Horseshit are mired in the early ’90s lo-fi pop sound, eliciting everything from the melodic arrangements and effects pedals of My Bloody Valentine, to the lackadaisical vibe, found-sound layering, and rhythmic spasticity of early Beck. But shoehorning them into that scene does them a disservice—while the aforementioned bands are their foundations, they’ve incorporated a wide variety of influences that make sure what you hear next is never predictable or boring. For a band so covered in ‘shit’, they are far from shitty. (Fat Cat Records, David Nowacki