You gotta check out Brooklyn’s psych-fuck noisters CoConuts. These guys are most comparable to labelmates Psychic Paramount with a hint of Steve Shelley’s Disappears, but their attitude and general ballsiness harkon back to Amen Duul and other krauters. They make woozy, angry, downbeat rolls and rolls of sound, but it’d be way too limiting to call them stoner rock. It’s so fitting to me that they’re on No Quarter, because they manage to incorporate the desolate warble of the Zeppelin namesake into every song on their latest self-titled EP. “Lost Bitches” warps – the heavy guitars manage to snake around, vibrating and echoing around itself. It’s not so much gooey as it’s drippy, and it falls slow and lazy. “Dean’s Blues” has the coolest riff I’ve seen in a while – it climbs up until it reaches the top, then oscillates around, teasing. These guys are really onto something, if anything, reminding us to slooooow down and make every note, effect and feeling count.
