Yawning Man - The Revolt Against Tired Noises ⚡️

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"A mental massage whilst sitting in frozen underpants atop a sand-dune of fur"

Music is a sensory experience that (should) go far beyond the listening experience and Yawning Man know this. They have done for decades. Their latest opus, the inspiringly titled “The Revolt Against Tired Noises” is an utterly refreshing and effervescently glacial slice of energising mellowness. This is not doom. This is not stoner rock. This is not desert rock. This is a mental massage whilst sitting in frozen underpants atop a sand-dune of fur.

How’s it sound ?

EDITOR’S NOTE: Mr Slab Riffjaw wishes to apologise for having inhaled too much fuzz. In the first release of this review he incorrectly stated that Mario was the main guitar-monger on this record. One of the infinitely more sober fuzzer called him out on it, pointing out that it’s actually Gary. He also pointed out what an idiot Slab was, which he’s in agreement with. Apologies to Gary and the Yawning Man crew for any tears of laughter caused. Humble pie is being served.

The faint whiff of Fatso Jetson’s ghost shimmers through here, but Gary’s creations take that other band’s surf guitar stylings to a different plateau. Infusing them with a heat haze of lazy warmth, all trickled over a rhythmic bed of undulating repeats and mountainous rise-and-fall that charm and hypnotise you into million-mile stares, but never bore into skip-button seeking wanderings.

The album’s title is fantastically accurate, so well done gentlemen. There is a real sense of organic but considered songwriting here. You can almost read in the songs all of the band’s decisions to purposefully take left turns where most groups go right…or to set out upon the musical path well trodden only to stride off into the untouched long grasses of new musical journeys. There is something refreshing and reinvigorating in this album’s tapestry of melody that elevates it far beyond similar peers in the more psychedelic and trippy end of the current musical landscape.

But the real beauty is in how subtly it’s done. This is not the jarring experimentation of less experienced musicians trying to be ‘clever’. This is an aligning of the creative planets for a band that had been around long before a large chunk of their fanbase were still crapping in their baby-pants. This is where paying your dues pays off. And it’s a rich gift to be appreciated in the spirit in which it is presented.

Why is this album worth listening to?

We live in a time of torrential audio riches far beyond the consumptive ability of most humans. Playlists, streamed randomisation, continual auditory bombardment. The ear is need of palate cleansing and new textural adventures to stop the onset of jaded boredom…and this is the album that will replenish those passions for the alternate and less withered path of creativity.

The energy of artists long-of-tooth, but short of tolerance for blandness and time wasting, is a powerful one when focused in this way, and Yawning Man are showing signs of maturity and wisdom untainted by the loss of edge or hunger.

Listen if you dream. Dream while you listen.

In what situation you should listen to this album ?

This is an album for all seasons, which is perfect as it gives you something new with every listen. On a steamingly hot summer day it is like an shimmering ice cube shower in your underwear. On a frosty winter eve it will be a toasty golden god-beam of warmth breaking through the frigid grayness.

This is a trip with a smile, an escape from mundanity.

Colours seem brighter, light seems warmer, and time becomes irrelevant. Go on, lick the rabbit’s butt and try something different for a change…