Deep south you’ll hear whispers of a new favorite band amongst the greater sovereign lords manning respectable posts throughout dixie. The whisper speaks of analog eight-track tape, fog machines, a band owning the motorik tendencies of the artier continental rockers coming out of rhineland, but hexing it with sacrilege. The stoicism of krautrock is easy to zen out to; but, the genre’s formal aesthetic often turns the jams cold. Instead, there’s Nest Egg — a band that takes the road-worthy transcendentalism of the auto, and lets the engine burn some oil. They keep worn tires rolling raw along the blacktop straight into the heart of the sun. If you can imagine the vibe of the solar core — a burning orb made of hot, dense gas in the plasmic state, at a pressure estimated at 265 billion bar (26.5 petapascals (PPa) or 3.84 trillion psi) at the center — that’s where they’re headed.
There’s a primal satisfaction in every aspect of the group: organ hovering over driving toms, cymbal splashes accentuating the immutable chunk and squall of perfected psyche guitar, bass throbbing over space-echoed vox. Nest Egg’s proletariat, spartan control of their Kosmische style doesn’t attempt to mechanically distance or disassociate its velocity from the energy of American rock music or Rhythm & Blues roots. Rather, they inflect their minimalist tendencies with a twang of southern badassery that makes their groove primal and raw. The style is a perpetual nonchalant drift, somehow both tense and easy, taking the jam equally into the heart of cosmic territory and a vat of spicy, boiled peanuts.
Nest Egg’s record Respectable dropped on Bathetic a few months ago; it’s more than respectable. Scope the wooded, psychedelic video for “Set The GPS For The Heart Of The Sun” below:
• Bathetic: http://batheticrecords.com
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