Sea Lion

We Say...

Review by Peter Parrish

Sea Lion is uproariously psychedelic. That's a term which can cover a dizzying array of bases, but in this instance it means a generous soaking of reverb and a tendency to indulge in impressive sonic gymnastics, sound whirling softly around the stereo channels like big woolen jumpers in a tumble dryer. It's the warm, fuzzy type of psychedelia — as opposed to the bad trip paranoia and nightmare monsters variety — reaching out to wrap up the ears with comfort and reassurance. The Ruby Suns, in their hazy, woozy way, want you to feel grand about life.

In charge of Operation Keep People Cheery is the aptly surnamed Ryan McPhun, a California chap living in New Zealand. Which is an example in minutia of the album's other major strength: the wide-eyed joy of globe-trotting. Happily, it's no mere smash-and-grab raid. Vibrant, international templates are integrated without fuss; a fresh burst of an unfamiliar rhythm or sudden appearance of a marimba signify precisely that and nothing more — rather than acting as a jarring spot-the-global-music-influence test.

When all goes right, the elements segue into the spectacular. "Oh, Mojave" jangles with plucky amounts of chirp before inviting hula-harmonies and, curiously, a meandering siren to join the festivities. "Ole Rinka" embarks with nursery rhyme melodies on glockenspiel, slowly blossoming into a boisterous carnival song which subsequently frays and unravels to a close. When it goes wrong...well, not a lot goes wrong really — although naming a track "Kenya Dig It?" is perhaps asking for trouble. Such indulgences are easily forgiven, however, when faced with a record as energising as the first moments of a sun-drenched holiday.