That patchouli-scented title is a red herring; Texan trio Ringo Deathstarr’s fifth album is not a record to chill to. Theirs is a grungy take on the fuzzy introspection of shoegaze: blissed-out vocals are set to layers of sludgy riffs, warm harmonies are marshalled by some serious sonic muscle. Not everything here gets the balancing act quite right. Once you’ve laboured through the fug of distortion on Boys in Heat, there’s nothing much contained within. But there are terrific moments elsewhere. The guitar squalls and fury of Never recall visceral art rockers And You Will Know Us... while vocal hooks gleam through the haze on Stare at the Sun.
