Junzo’s music has had me in its tractor beam for years. His last four or five albums play out a wonderful descent into the neighbouring planets of ‘sonic shitstorm’ and ‘meta blues’. Every album just slowly pushing things ever nearer to the red but always gives a sense of being beckoned into the squall by his distinctive dreadlocked silhouette. The physically of sound for sure, but a superbly brain tinglingly satisfying one as well.
In a strange way, the occasional space of his earlier tracks like The End Of Horizon and Buried Sky, Spider Torn to Piece give the listener a chance to see the under-wiring of his fragmentary rock. But for full mind popping glory, this year’s album: The Magus was another effortless masterclass.
Despite almost immediately exploding like volcanic eruption, the music builds like strata with the opener Don Rigoberto. Each track taking your further from the place you were before you hit play. But it’s the final and title track – The Magus, that opens like the tune you’ve been waiting all night for him to play. A clanging feed-backing glam rock bastard son. And out the sparks, the coolest most fucked, most grooving, deepest never-ending solo ever. And it just hangs in space…
14 and a half minutes that, in the right frame of mind, is over in a second. Wormhole psych that I can’t get enough of.
The Magus is available here
obladada.com 