What makes a song psychedelic? If I asked you to name a psychedelic rock band, you would probably jump to one of a few answers: the Grateful Dead, Iron Butterfly, King Gizz. But what is it about these bands that makes them psychedelic? Is it the neon tapestries that adorn their album covers and stages? Or is it the noodling solos and unconventional song structure that make the band? How far removed from the source material can a song be before it stops being psychedelic? Today, I want to analyze an album that side-steps many of the psychedelic norms, yet one that I would still argue falls within the genre: the new Keith Carne album “Magenta Light.”
So, first things first, let's talk about “Magenta Light.” “Magenta Light” is the debut solo album of Keith Carne, famous for his tenure playing drums for We Are Scientists. The record marks a departure for Carne as he steps out from behind the drum kit and into the limelight to flex his songwriting muscles. It’s Keith pushing boundaries and blurring the lines between genres as he explores where the combination of poppy hooks and dreamy synths can go.
“Magenta Light” is one of those albums that has a distinct sound to it. You could hear any tune off this record, and you would immediately be able to place it as belonging to “Magenta Light.” The backbone of the album is synth pop. It’s warm and bubbly, the sort of high-energy pumping track that rattles the minds of Molly-soaked ravers. That is compounded by an otherworldly drum section. The skill that Carne developed with We Are Scientists adds an unexpected layer of complexity to the album, where you normally wouldn’t find it. So often you see the drums disappearing into the background of a song, damned to be forever overpowered by legions of guitarists butchering power chords. Here, however, the rhythm takes the spotlight. What we end up with are twinkling synth-pop ballads with intricate pattering beats, which can be enjoyed both blindly as the album blares out of peeking speakers or under a microscope through high-quality headphones that allow you to pick apart each drum fill and lead break. It’s like listening to a Stewart Copeland album after downing a handful of liberty caps.
All of this being said, I could understand why it may be confusing as to why I’m calling this a psychedelic rock album. “Magenta Light” doesn’t sound like a psych album; it sounds more like 80s new wave. So what makes this psychedelic but “Hunting High and Low” new wave?
Your first sign is the easiest to see, the album cover. A single eye weeping a waterfall while it emits blue and yellow rays against a day-glo magenta background. Bizarre, but it gets the point across. You know as soon as you see the record sleeve what you’re getting into. This is not, however, the end of the psychedelic imagery; the album drips with it. Take even the title, “Magenta Light,” which, according to Carne, comes from a psychedelic vision his wife had where she saw magenta light pouring from Carne’s face. The spacey vocals, which whisper haunting melodies about the cosmos into an infinite void of undulating synths and sparkling keys, blur the line between pop and psych. The parts of this album are taken from new wave, but they have stripped down and reassembled into a psychedelic monstrosity with flailing arms, a dozen eyes, and sparkling keys.
“Magenta Light” isn’t a conventional psychedelic rock album. You’re not going to find palm-muted guitars, warbling hammond organs, or electric jugs here. What you will find is an album that experiments with its very own genetic makeup. A tight synth pop record that took a hero dose of acid and began going absolutely crazy on the drum kit. It’s a living, breathing piece of art that is backed with twists and turns. Every time you find yourself getting comfortable thinking that a song is beginning to follow a pattern, it jerks in the other direction, dragging you along into a crescendo you never saw coming. It’s a psychedelic wolf in a pop star's clothing.
You can find “Magenta Light” streaming everywhere now. This eight-track sleeper agent is reshaping the modern psychedelic sound already. In a day where a genre whose entire foundation is innovation is finding itself stagnating into a class of King Gizzard impersonators, Keith Carne is pushing the boundaries of what psychedelic rock can be. He has side-stepped the stereotypes of psychedelic rock to create a new sound unlike anything quite like the genre has heard before. If you haven’t had the chance to listen to the album yet, now is the time. If for no other reason, it’s worth the listen just to hear Carne’s impeccable drumming.
