A neo-psychedelic good time 

Aptly self-described “California doom boogie” group Death Valley Girls’ latest album Islands In the Sky is reassurance that the spirit of the psychedelic 60s is alive in 2023. Grainy organs, jangly guitars, dusty drums, high, wobbly vocals and lyrics about magic wishes and astral visions add up to a light entertainment akin to having a meal at a retro diner. 

Though this isn’t ambient music, the albums 11 distinct songs blend into a half hour of atmosphere. Perhaps Islands’ main value is how much it immerses the listener in the tone of vintage garage rock without making listeners wonder why they don’t just listen to the Nuggets compilation again instead. Without being that different from the culture they recycle, they automatically put a new spin on it. The choice to sound like it’s 1967 is much more deliberate and contrarian now than it would have been in that year, and this choice is where a big chunk of album’s meaning comes from, besides the goofy lyrics and, of course, the solid quality of the music itself.

The huge, menacing note that starts the opening track “California Mountain Shake” might have been sampled from the Blade Runner soundtrack. The chorus to “What Are the Odds” “We are living in a simulated world, and we are simulated girls” changes Madonna’s critique of materialism to a shallower post-Matrix resignation chant. (Incidentally, Death Valley Girls are at their catchiest when their choruses are hollered out by a bunch of layered voices, like on this track and “Disaster (Is What We’re After).”) They clear up the patina of buzz and fuzz that artificially ages their songs now and then to reduce sludge fatigue. Without straying from the period, they occasionally trade the grungy high school gymnasium sound for gospel (“Sunday,”) Phil Spector pop (“Say It Too”) and Velvet Underground-inspired New York rock ’n’ roll (the subway clacking piano on “What Are the Odds,” the (Sterling) Morrisonian guitar solo on “When I’m Free.”)

Lyrically, Islands is cosmic fun, New Age tiresome, and even profound at various times.  In their campy, mythological universe, the image of the “California mountain snake” doing the “California mountain shake” is a metaphor for love. When people fall down, they shatter and get magic powers (the strongest hook here). And space travel involves piloting a rowboat up a misty river. It’s playful homage to the truly imaginative and wacky rock poetry of yore. But it sometimes tips from amusing self-parody (“Trees are the speed you need. Follow their lead”) to repetitive dreams-are-reality eccentricity. Maybe the dream bits tie in with the potentially deep cries for freedom on the record. The line “No one gets to choose for you,” for instance, resonates beyond all the apolitical psychedelia-for-psychedelia’s sake.

Islands in the Sky is a comforting trip for devotees of the theremin, hand-clapping, swampy rhythms and melodies that go from bubblegum to witchy at the drop of a sixth. Overall, this is an enjoyable batch of new songs in a style that’s fondly remembered for good reason.