Garden Gate Records
I won’t go so far as to call Laminated Cat acid rockers, but they capture the swirling, swishy trippy section of a Roger Corman exposé about LSD. The guitars (Tanner Smith) move slowly over the soundscape, gently changing key and time signature throughout a song, then deftly reappearing a few cuts later to finish off whatever musical thought spawned the inciting riff.
Occasional crushes of notes collide, recalling the really hard-to-listen-to cuts on The White Album, but soon enough they sort themselves out and off we go on another rainy day adventure. Gliding along, phases and mixes from every band in the ’90s flow together, not as a sampling session but rather as a mélange of influences, mixed just enough to create a pleasantly varied dining experience. Think of a Jell-O mold supplanted by fruit salad: each bite tastes of a uniform color, yet the texture smells of its own sweet or tangy reality. Behind the lead singer’s young growl, there’s stalwart drum and bass work from twins Camden and Cooper Smith. Two singers entertain — A.J. Griffith writes as well as croons, and guitarist Tanner pipes up when necessary. Griffith’s songwriting is equal parts dreamy love songs and mechanical ghost stories from outer space. All rank equally in the Laminated Cat world view.
You’ll find Umbrella Weather crunchy and filling, and now I’m going to find my old paisley shirt before I start peaking.