Solo axe-wielder Justin Wright channels extraterrestrial space mantras from beyond the corridors of space and time. Sounding like a rusted-out Cosmonaut Space Station orbitting Dylan Carlson’s Earth, Expo ’70 are simultaneously kosmische and megalithic, heavy as lead but light as a feather.
“Lysergic Sunrise” kicks off with a growl, ominous and nasty as you like, mainly built upon a locked brown note guitar loop, which then takes flight upon the wings of a gull, to crest into the sunset of “Mind Echo Unit”; a pensive and thoughtful hypnotic ghost-dub, as Wright’s guitar chases itself down a funhouse hall of mirrors. Sad and beautiful, there’s a humanity at work here, transmitted through the familiar sounds of fingers on strings, and it adds a layer of heart to the atmospheric doom/drone genre.
“Emerald Fanged Dancer” shortens things up, clockng in at a mere 2:40 of mind-melting analog synth schizophrenia. It is gloopy and gelatinous and genuinely unnerving. “Solitude” coalesces into some soulful dirge guitar, building from a repetitive 5 note guitar riff and climaxing into some melancholy soloing, that reminds me of a bummer Floyd outtake. Finally, comes the mighty two headed beast of the albums closers: “Cosmic Seance” and “Midnight Stalking/Dawn of the Black Ohms”, which bring back the looming dread of “Lysergic Sunrise” with ponderous riffage, which calls to my mind some mausoleum Spaceship drifting into view, an ill portent. The cosmic synths are in full atmospheric effect, calling to mind vintage horror movie scores like the soundtrack to John Carpenter’s Prince of Darkness or Goblin’s work on Dario Argento’s splatterfests.
The foundation of Black Ohms is built upon looped and treated electric guitar; sometimes gut rattling, sometimes cerebral, but all the ephemeral details of synths and sound effects are what makes this such a rewarding and deep listening experience, one which warrants many happy returns. There is a level of care and craftmanship here, not to mention shear SONGWRITING ability, that is sadly lacking in much Avant-Garde music. There is also some refreshing humanity amidst all the looming space stations and lost civilizations, and all of these elements combine to make Expo ’70 an EXCEPTIONAL and ESSENTIAL listening experience for any fan of drone, doom, ambient, synth, or just plain good music. BLACK OHMS is a fine way to become acquainted with the band, who have been churning out records like a hot dog factory lately, (a hazard of the trade in the noise community, like hearing loss, but in this case its a good thing). All signs point to Expo ’70 being a name tattooed on the hearts and bruised knuckles of many noise fiends in the VERY NEAR future. So get on board, while there’s still room on the rocket ship, and while you still may be able to afford their ridiculously limited edition releases.