Salvia Plath - House Of Leaves


When you have a band name that combines the author of the suicidal The Bell Jar; Sylvia Plath and the hallucinogenic plant blamed for the backwards bending of many a punter at pretty much any festival you like, then there are certain things expected from you:

You must write Shangri-La inspired surf pop.

You must drench every one of those songs in liquid drug fuelled gold.

You must be able to combine the light and the dark in transcendental harmony.

Michael Collins AKA Salvia Plath can do all those things and has being doing them ever since he released his debut album under the guise Run-DMT called Bong Theory. This new track, House of Leaves which is released under the project’s new name (after a rather angry Dub-Step crew demanded he stopped using Run-DMT) demonstrates all these traits and leaves me walking the streets of south London, barefoot, draped in my mum’s fur coat, clutching a mixture of rubbish, flowers and Salvia Plath’s new LP The Bardo Story. 

Aside from the drug puns and the obvious target niche this curvy arrow is looping towards there is a definitive style and musical prowess to Michael Collins’ bow. He takes us day tripping back to the 60’s in a comfy cloud car, holding our hand and making sure that the ride is natural, organic and without the forced journey of many modern 60’s pysche bands.

Collins focuses on the atmosphere of the LP, it lifts, it falls and finds it incredibly hard not to break it apart from drug references, be it the slow burble of a bong rip or the lyrics depicting the train-hopping, joint-smoking hippie that is Baltimore’s Michael Collins.

This song and the LP confirms that Collins is slowly moving away from the infantile electro sound he first burst on to the scene with. Both House Of Leaves and Salvia Plath show Collins as a bone-fide songsmith, capable of transporting the grubby acoustic guitars and the highest of high harmonies into gorgeous songs that can soundtrack your summer.

By Jack Whatley