Review Summary: A crack in the sun, a crack in your smile, and a rift in your head.
Where were you when you first realized that you need to grab life by the horns? That life will not come to YOU - and to go to IT requires positivity and vulnerability in equal measure? When you realized that life demands *initiative?* Maybe you were smoking weed on your parents' roof. Or staring out the passenger window of your best friend's beater. Most importantly - was that realization a joyous one?
It certainly is for The Murlocs. In fact, I couldn't imagine it any other way.
Calm Ya Farm presents a maturation point for The Murlocs. The band has always been content to noodle and twist in lo-fi psychedelic pop territory - generally reveling in the missteps and callow attitudes that come hand in hand with the exuberance of youth. This is most prevalent in past psychedelic boppers like 'Adolescence' and 'No Self Control.' However, over a decade into their career, The Murlocs are clearly ready to grow: both beyond their charming juvenility and past the shadow of their sister band: King Gizzard & The Lizard Wizard. It is fitting that Calm Ya Farm's highlights reject their earlier gonzo teen anthems in favor of genuine introspection and critical musing:
"I'm pummeling down, can't get my head around"
"These adult leaps and bounds ... "
"You're always the one overthinking,"
"But you just need to breathe and make a decision."
All of this, criticially, without sacrificing the band's playful spirit or unabashed blues crunching. The process of shedding their lo-fi psych pop roots has led them straight to the doorstep of blues rock revelry. The guitar-driven chord progressions and sunny, muddy hooks are more robust than ever before - while also being more measured and considered. This leads to a track listing that, while no longer than earlier releases, has an unhurried character and laid-back attitude.
This is very much a summer-driving-with-the-windows-down rock record; and The Murlocs are now wearing their gourmet Dad Rock influences on their sleeves - perhaps a source of their newfound maturity. Paired with a firey guitar breakdown on the bridge, the searing harmonica work on 'Common Sense Civilian' is nothing short of decadent. Meanwhile, the weighty honky-tonk keys of 'Undone & Unashamed' smack of color and influence by the likes of Bill Payne and Little Feat. But what makes it special is that it rewards attentive listening with remarkable lyrical insight:
"Rip it off like a bandaid, when you gonna come out of your cave?"
"How can I paraphrase it? It's overpassed, belated - "
"Silent discomfiture, defeated, totally conqured - "
"Put it on the backseat burner but don't let it simmer too long."
Indeed, Calm Ya Farm presents a coming of age for The Murlocs - and in that coming of age the band has stumbled upon some keen wisdom - wrapped in the jagged tinfoil sheen of boisterous blues rock. However, it's a subtle sort of growth, especially when compared to the constant metamorphosis of their sister band: King Gizzard & The Lizard Wizard. Nothing here is earth shattering - or even particularly innovative - and diehards of psychedelic thrashing may find this work middling. But, in the vein of Steely Dan: the magic is in the writing, and the execution. It's clever lyricism and airtight structure. It's ability to acknowledge uncertain turning points in one's life and answer them with joyous front porch rock riffing.
Perhaps The Murlocs cracked the code: that this is how we are all meant to grow - with a bright smile on our face and a buzzy ringing in our ears.
At least, I'd like to think so.
