This one jumped out the pile when we were digging through crates at St. Stephen’s Record Fair this March. The retro-electro cover screamed “take me home!”—so we just did what the record told us.

I’d never heard of The Go! Team before, so I was pleasantly surprised when the needle dropped and out came this full-blown kaleidoscope of sound: a sugar rush bounce that was punchy and bold. The album thrusts you into a happy, fluffy fusion of lo-fi hip-hop/funk, and takes you on a journey stitched with pastel hues of shoegaze and pastures of indie. Recently released in 2021, these guys pack an old-school bite with a punch of that bright, fuzzy candyfloss energy, a great record to crack on when the sun’s out.

Extra Note : -. During recording Ian Parton developed Ménière’s disease, causing him to partial hearing loss. He described the album as his “life raft” which may have resulted in this album’s unique urgency of sounding alive.

This is such a great 90’s band. This album is actually a favourite of mine and was a gift from my partner a few months back.

It’s on here simply because I love it.

Most people find it hard to believe BJM were a ’90s band, simply because they didn’t sound like one.

Anton Newcombe was so heavily influenced by ’60s psychedelia and methodic drone rock. He especially set out to capture the era within his music.

Described by fans and critics as blending “rock’s leather-jacketed and hippie legacies”, Newcombe’s genius lay in his ability to assemble loopy, hypnotic grooves with droning sitars and unhinged tablas and tambourines.

Released in 1996, Their Satanic Majesties was to be Newcombe’s most prolific work. The band went on a spree, releasing three albums that year. This arguably the most “psychedelic manifesto” of the lot. With tracks like “Anemone” and “In India you” among the most iconic, from deeply immersive to full-on raga-rock pastiche.

I would say BJM pack a  time-warped sound with all the rock & roll sex appeal of the ’60s. They definitely have a theatrical vintage twang, like some gritty-hippy roadside circus. And for me, they are the sound of desert air drifters, star-gazing campfire nudists, stoned philosophers, sun-washed tarmac, sweat, beards, and spiritual paradigms. – Suppose that’s why I like them.

Extra Note: If you’ve got a thing for woozy, 90s psych/prog haze like Mazzy Star or the tribal, psychedelic bedlam of GOAT, do yourself a favour and drop the needle on some BJM! They splice those warbly vibes with a mystic, sunburnt, jaded wash. Very vintage dirtbag. Even the raspy, battered effects on the album make the record sound like it’s been rescued from the back of your Uncle Benny’s caravan.