Rows of cucurbit psych-rock licks rest on a tilled field of psychedelia, their pale orange bodies swelling with patience and maturity. The season to harvest has arrived, and Nebraskan bedroom-prog outfit Rake Kash is well-prepared for the task, taking to a bumper crop with six-stringed scythe and tape recorder in tow.
Cross-breeding twangy folk tones with the lush riffage of jazz fusion, the agrarian landscapes painted on the project’s new self-titled venture on Gertrude Tapes reach Edenic levels of succulence. Excess dreaminess forms beads of condensation on saxophone tendrils and fronds of surf-y guitar. Sonorous groans of violin drop in waves like the spray of a sprinkler system’s oscillation, tinging much of the record with an eerie sense of isolation that looms beneath the abundance.
A shopping mall muzak’s answer to Godspeed You! Black Emperor, Rake Kash’s latest effort cultivates verdant plots of well-ripened major-7th chord ambience.