There are some bands that are making music very much for the here and now. Social commentary, kitchen sink dramas, political satire and denouncements. Then there are those who are making music in a whole other dimension. Another version of Earth where the ice age didn’t wipe out the dinosaurs and we live in a prehistoric utopia.
Dactyl Terra, literally translated means Finger Land, as the deconstruction of Pterodactyl (winged finger) and conflated Ptero (finger) to Terra (land).
That could be interpreted as being to tend the land, to sow, to grow, to build, to culture the agri.
This is their debut LP, Fee Fi Fo Fum, a land of the giant. Giant riffs, giant hooks, giant rhythms, giant low rumbling bass. Giant anthems; giant grooves.
‘Swordfish‘ sounds like Black Sabbath if Tony Iommi preferred the fuzz box to the distortion pedal. Naturally, it’s quite psychedelic, but then you’re listening to Dactyl Terra. If you weren’t expecting psych-drenched guitars, kaleidoscopic barre chords, and reverb to make the ground shake like a Tyrannosaurus Rex pounding down the valley to eat your children, then you’re as cooked as that guy in the khazi in the first Jurassic Park movie.
‘Mountain Shaking‘, well yeah, it would if that T-Rex of hallucinations was careering down its side towards you. It travels and twists and turns through time and space like an intergalactic magical mystery tour. It’s that bit in Willy Wonka when it all goes very trippy on that train that spews out cream.
‘Universe of the Cat‘ is a not sedate affair. A tribute to the crepuscular felines. ‘Let’s Go Climbing‘ sounds like an ascent up Rock Mountain with a dainty step and diminutive simplicity. ‘Cheeseburger‘ is the catchiest slice on here, it melts across the meaty riffs and doughy rhythm. There’s still a swampy bluesy feel even though the tempo is raised.
We’re entering an epoch, if we’re not already swimming in its sewage-filled rivers, where the desire to remove ourselves from the literal plane and enter a chemically induced state to forget what is happening in the real world. Hey, no judgements here, whatever you’ve gotta do to get through the day, but if you want my advice, a heady mix of booze and a hazy summer day, moderation is the key over several hours till you get to the gorgeously warm evenings that go on forever and bed would be a sweaty mess. Stick this slab of wax on. The woozy mix is a superb intoxicant. Or just lie back, light up a fat one and drift away.
Some bands that have a penchant for the psych and big meaty riffs go too hard on the chunky chords and distortion drenched doom. Dactyl Terra are as equally about the groove. Strip away the hooks and you’ve got some Stevie Wonder disco-soul hip-shaking slinky stuff. Erin’s bass is silky and sultry as the best 70’s purveyors of the art. The drums are by Bailey Love and by Jove they can pound like Bonham but lay the groove like Anderson Paak. There are elements of ’60s dark Psych from the likes of The Doors but also a lighter Zombies melodic touch. George and Erin’s vocal dual, as do their respective strings, weaving amongst each other like intertwined serpents. Joe’s crunchy rhythm guitar and swirling organ notes bring everything together in a big bowl of primordial ‘Animal Soup‘. Grab a big fuck-off spoon and dive in.
It’s clearly no coincidence that this album appears just as summer rears its head above the grey and dankness that is 2024. Keep this spinning to ensure a long hot fuzzy kaleidoscopic summer.
