By L.C. Mason
Manifest Destiny: the belief that divine forces lay in the vast American West before 19th-century settlers arrived to explore and conquer. The West meant progress, raw living, and the flourishing of the American dream. The edge of the continent has been a magnet for the brave, weird, and fringe-dwelling since the East’s puritanical purging sessions, and California continues to be viewed as the country’s wayward beacon of creativity.
The West has since been mystified and exalted in American lore - in the Western - spaghetti or not - and the maniacal prose of wild literati and the brain-burn of psychedelia, to name just a few cultural movements. Currently upholding the West Coast’s prismatic musical legacy are Los Angeles' Spindrift, which is vigorously paying homage to everything the California sun has spawned in the past four decades. Follow the band from the phantasms brought on by the desert heat to the delirium of the open road to even the weightlessness of outer space.
Spindrift's newest album, The West (Beat the World), is a departure from the straight-up psych-pop of their 2007 release, Songs from the Ancient Age. Laced through with a satisfying sense of cohesion, The West's fully realized, expansive tunes are tinged with a Doors-era LA sound. Mix in the hazy tremble of guitars culled from a classic Ennio Morricone soundtrack. The sprawling eight-member ensemble keeps it fresh with a slew of instruments including doubleneck bass guitars, harmoniums, and church chimes.
The roadhouse blues of “The Wind” winds through the gentle twanging of layered guitars and pleading harmonica. Saturated vocals caress the listener as they go. Underneath it all are the sounds of flowing water and bird chirps - a welcome respite from the desolate expanses of sand and hot wind that the rest of the album conjures.
“Goin’ Down” is a hotly anticipated performance piece with its crunchy guitar riff, a heartbeat of a bass drum, and echoing, growled vocals. At the two-minute mark, the song is spun into space with strobe light-like guitar effects that boomerang to and fro - perfect in a drug-induced fog.
A carnival of spellbinding musical chops and tunes that seem to exist at once in the fingers of clouds and on the lonely main drag of a ghost town, Spindrift sound like modern psychedelic heavyweights to me. They have their feet on the ground, but their heads are floating in the sky.
SPINDRIFT
With the Upside Down, Leopold and His Fiction, and Neil Martinson
Tues/10, 9 p.m., $8-$10
Bottom of the Hill
1233 17th St, SF
(415) 621-4455
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