Brian Jonestown Massacre’s leading man Anton Newcombe sees collaboration with the smouldering voiced singer-songwriter, 24-year-old, London based, Toronto hailing Tess Parks on I Declare Nothing, out June 29th via Newcombe’s own label A Recordings.
The blissed-out psychedelic duo has posted several demos of the forthcoming LP on YouTube, building great anticipation for the endowed final result. The pair combined on the project in Berlin early last year. Parks follows up her solo record Blood Hot on Alan McGee’s 359 Music. The smoky tones to Parks’ vocals and fuzzy psychedelic animation on her debut saw impressive comparisons to the prestige of Patti Smith. And Parks’ contribution to I Declare Nothing is also nothing short of a remarkable wonder.
Mixing together the American neo-psychedelic brains of Brian Jonestown Massacre’s front, with the touch of Tess Park’s hypnotic vibrancy, sees soft psychedelic creations.
Sitting on the album as a Record Store Day single ‘Cocaine Cat,’ prowls a smooth swagger, as it slowly kaleidoscopes and twirls in slow pysch-rock. A sauntering bass line drives a bluesy edge. ‘So sit back and relax, enjoy your cocaine cat…’ whispers Parks voice, enough to ensue a cooling shiver on it’s listener. Her tones sweep with a relaxing rasp that soothes the soul, whilst it climbs and winds like intoxicated bewilderment. The tracks layers of instrumentation are enough to get lost in, and enough to numb the mind of reality’s ailments, like a narcotic enthused state.
‘Peace Defrost’ beholds a certain funk due to its stepping bass riff. A drive of obscure hopelessness swells beneath riled growls from Parks, ‘you let your love get lost…’ Anton Newcombe and Tess Parks together create fantastic enticing varied moods, including this tracks woozy wrath.
The duo nail fuzzy, moody-melancholia on ‘German Tangerine.’ The track circles in an enticing dance of careful construct, as Parks darkly seductive vocals, loom over in soft waves. ‘German Tangerine’ seems to wind to a vigilantly building speed and texture, which enthrals the ear into its centre, before unwinding to a slow-release.
‘Mama’ sees Parks pick up an enticing attitude. Her smoking, edgy and soft vocals linger with defiance as she questions, ‘oh Mama how do you feel?’ The acoustic guitar provides pacifying undertones to her magical moodiness. Newcombe and Parks demonstrate a magnetising ability to contrast light and shade.
With Parks’ smoking ability to usher emotion and tone, meeting Newcombe’s experimental and layered production, I Declare Nothing is the perfect record for pondering contemplation and whimsical mood.
As the pair’s first collaboration album, hopefully this is not just a passing side project, as its remarkable outcome begs for even more creation.