The psychedelic heavy rock revival out of SoCal may have some people sneering with the same kind of skepticism caused by other retro explosions (“occult rock,” the thrash revival, etc.), but hidden in the clubs of San Diego is some supremely refined and kickass rock and roll. Earthless and Astra in particular have garnered quite the followings and critical praises, the former hitting heavier on the open jams with the latter delving deep into prog. Sacri Monti is another welcome addition to this growing roster of west coast jammers, and their debut album is a heckuva riff-romping thing.
As would be expected by anyone familiar with their scene mates, Sacri Monti offers a lush, warm amalgamation of ’65 to ’75. The big, splattering wah riff that opens up “Glowing Grey” gives off a huge psych/blues rock vibe in the vein of Cream and Blue Cheer, but other areas owe just as much to the laid back side of Thin Lizzy. Like Astra, Sacri Monti also reach to the prog of King Crimson and Floyd, but as “Slipping From the Day” shows, those Frippish riffs are often spliced with blues-based songwriting. In countless ways, Sacri Monti is fuzzier than jumping into a ball pool full of tribbles.
Blues rock, prog rock, proto metal, fusion—it’s all masterfully represented in one way or another, but no one element is ever the focus. Rather, while the heaps of fuzzed vocals, keyboards, boogie rhythms, riffs, and oodles (OODLES) of leads may seem to be calling to various retro sources, the resulting songs are so absolutely organic as to make the whole the constant focus.
The reason is an uncanny level of chemistry for a band that has only been together for three years. The band is tight in a purely technical sense, but so loose in philosophy, willing to go anywhere at once, be it a warbling keyboard solo or a twangy slide guitar part. The comfort each band member has with the others is apparent from the start, making one think of Zeppelin at their live height, or of krautrock’s best—it simply feels as if each musician knows what the others are going to do before they play it, all while maintaining that live-in-the-studio feel. This level of comfort – along with constantly interesting embellishments from all involved – help to give rather simple song structures a feel of complexity and dynamics.
That said, when they do get a touch more complex in their songwriting, as during the closing title/eponymous track, magic happens. It opens with a softer touch, building in deceptive fashion as to trick the listener into thinking it has a free form, before the vocals emerge alongside a dual lead hook. Then, an extended and proggy space rock jam quickly erupts; leads move in and out, often with little introduction, while vocals drift over the top, seemingly lost in the instrumental sea. Like several moments throughout the album, much of it feels arbitrary and meandering until a larger structure forms, at which point everything feels perfectly earned.
Bands like Sacri Monti are a constant justification for not throwing away old tools. Little they do here is new, but all of it is fresh, and just so alive, leaving the listener to wonder exactly what they’re putting in the water in San Diego. This feels as spontaneous as it does sneakily precise and calculated, as brash as it is outwardly beautiful, and as free to explore as it grounded in the urge to rock, and rock hard.
