God’s Teeth And The Interstellar Tropics are a psychedelic improv threesome hailing from Brighton. Suitably mysterious, extra details are scant, but I’m liking the airy acrobatics on this, their third release, GNASH.
The sparse sparkle of “Alchemical Hunting” hits first – it unloads its inky spiders and rickety limbs into a loose inclination of scatter-cushioned blurs with a slight Yiddish flavour elasticating the pebbled betweens to whoooooohing incants. They ply a lovely laid-back flavour (over this tracks eighteen-minute duration, and the rest of the album for that matter) that’s not overly concerned with rhythmic or melodic lock-ups, but is happier ambling an intoxicated dance of halflings, orphaned shapes that briefly collide, collude, and canker-curl in exploratory abstraction.
The second track, “Space Prayers”, adds to that impression by threading the action on an accordion-like sway. A lamentful lilt to flickering purcussives as these descended shapes stretch on through, are thistled in needling tambourine and rolling texturals, yawning cordons that dart around like a Karel Appel painting. The third and final act “Hot Cheese (Part 2)” oozes with lovely mirages of echo/delay gluing those candid curls to a boozy, tumescence of flurrying frets. A concoction that becomes a Braille-bitten ticket to who knows where, as the narrative neverworlds, clambers the canvas in sporadic unisons, conjures a subtle beauty that thread-bares to bleed unnatural colour.-Michael Rodham-Heaps-
