What I admire most about LP/DVD combo Water Wrackets is its single-minded approach to a hypnotic, mellow-yellow brand of digital-age (yet retro-balanced) indie, so close-yet-distant you can say hello to it and listen as it retorts 50 miles away. A whole mess of cats in the drone-age try to spiral upward to the heights of Bitchin Bajas, but few nail the sacred combination of Harmonia/Neu! and Steve Hillage circa Rainbow Dome Music with the same air of confidence. It sounds effortless, yet some have driven themselves mad attempting to approximate what the Bajas accomplish: total liquidity, total submersion, total grooove (the extra “o” is for oooscillation), and total equality between the LP and DVD side of the equation.
I’ve yet to check in with mothership Cave, mind you, so I’m going in here with a clean slate. If they somehow top Water Wrackets with their day job, I’ll be the first to congratulate them. But make no mistake, Bitchin Bajas unearth enough splendor to tenfold justify their existence, bringing a unique, scholarly, economical slant to minimalist prog-drone, the gravitational pull of the perpetual bass yawn and tinkling synths sucking the oxygen out of everything in its path. Not to mention the DVD, a warm blanket of aqua that changes like the seasons and flushes out gorgeous color combinations and liquid melt. Next stop: Blu-ray?
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