4 out of 5

Label: VHF Records

Producer: Pelt

It’s far and ranging, it begins and ends.  Pelt’s ‘Ayahuasca’ won’t bring new fans to the table if you don’t dig on this particular breed of droney folk, but there’s such a beautiful and clear dividing line between Pelt and their peers on this album that it certainly marks the disc as a highlight in the group’s career.  Apparently recorded over two years, there’s nonetheless a thematic feeling to the flow of the record.  Part of it I’m probably made up, but otherwise the ebbing shift from rumble to traditional to psych to melodic and so on is committed so gracefully that I can’t help but imagine it as purposeful sequencing.  What my bias is probably placing on the affair is a slightly creepy feeling to disc one that morphs into something more contemplative on disc two.  (Yes, go ahead and roll your eyes)

I’d say opener ‘True Vine’ starts us off in familiar Pelt territory, with the slight middle Eastern flair and background strings humming around and over a rumbling core.  But it’s the shimmer into the ominous (and drivingly monotonous) ‘Deer Head Apparition’ that really begins to catch my ear, this straight forward surge of whispery scrapes and subtle changes that casts a spell as you listen.  And suddenly some traditional folk music, recorded in a clear but slightly reverbed tone that maintains the cavernous, mysterious feel of the album.  Disc one closes with a move of confident genius, the ‘Raga Called John, Pt. 1’ starting with another folk tune, then stopping midway through to turn into drone.  The end of this track is the only moment of the Side A that sorta loses the spell, as it just concludes without winding down or anything to float into, so unless you’re on repeat, you feel like you’ve just opened your eyes and you’re at the edge of the cliff, dream over.

Disc 2 opens with the gorgeously meandering ‘The Dream of Leaping Sharks,’ which is the most notably improvised feeling of the whole production.  The tracks on this disc also introduce some stuttering studio fiddling (or just gaps in the recording, who knows) that work effectively to introduce some notes of tension into otherwise dreamy compositions.  Another folk tune to break up the disc, and then 2 further ‘Raga Called John’ parts, which take their time and build the drone to something that just washes over and through you.

It’s nothing new exactly, but ‘Ayahuasca’ still feels like some kind of revitalized version of the group, perhaps just the breadth of material and space giving the tracks ample time to work their meditative magic.  But the inclusion of the traditional songs to break up the flow also greatly enhance the experience.  A Plus for Pelt fans, perhaps a little dry for Jackie-O Motherfucker followers.