Album Review: Acid Washed – House of Melancholy

In 1938, Swiss scientist Albert Hoffman became the first man to synthesise acid (LSD, for any chemists out there). But in the process, he unintentionally absorbed tiny amounts through his fingertips, experiencing the dreamlike psychosis this powerful hallucinogenic induces. He later conducted a self-experiment with the deliberate intention of discovering acid’s true effects, taking the first ever acid trip on a day that came to be known as “Bicycle Day” (he rode – or should I say tripped – a bicycle home from the laboratory post-drop).

Now Parisian duo Andrew Calristidge and Richard D’Alpert may go by Acid Washed to pay homage to the 80s denim technique that makes too frequent an appearance in old photo albums, but their latest record, House of Melancholy, sounds much more like an acid trip – the good part, and the bad. Not in an, ‘everything’s morphing into a demon and chairs have taken on a murderous life force’ haphazard, frantic kind of way; rather, it’s a melodic unification of body, mind, and soul, a psychological re-arranging, an illuminating auditory experience.

Tie-dye dreams of psychedelic landscapes surge forward in a gradual stream of extraordinary delights. Throughout, a kaleidoscopic play of new wave, house, and disco come together with a pop-like edge. Each song occupies and encourages their own strange thoughts – a state of blankness, shot through with flashes of pulsing synths that create an intense sense of reality (or otherwise).

Opening the door to this alternate universe is ‘Heartbeat Maker’. It drones and pulses like a heartbeat – as you’d probably guess – with bleak, sci-fi synths and waves of tension building drum solos that work towards a climactic crescendo. It seems to say, ‘this trip is about to begin’.

And boy, does it begin. Follow-up track ‘Fire N Rain’ is “a song about love – a love discovered, a love lost, a love recovered”. Solid vocals offset muffled echoes and funk-driven beats, whilst ‘Golem’s Dance’ lifts you up from the dark underground of ‘Fire N Rain’ with a structured, upbeat piano refrain and tender rattling of drum machines. But ‘Prince Acid’ is a synth-driven exploration of the ethereal and fictional worlds that blur and question the appearance of reality.

So far so good. We’ve wandered through realms of futuristic bleakness and inner exploration, but we’re not even half-way through – the ride’s not over yet.

‘Gasoline’ incorporates a folk-like acoustic guitar into a synthesised backdrop that sounds like the moment trips start to go wrong. The vocals are deep, haunting and gruff, walking you down “the roads of insanity”. But ‘Hello Universe’ offers a gleaming moment of respite – dreamlike female vocals that soar above the uneasy, wavering synths float beneath. Fidgeting, restless instrumentals on ‘Celestial Choirs of Barbès’ twist and turns in a world of uncertainty, whereas the closing title track pitter-patters with a sheen of escapism.

The entire record shuffles back and forth along a coil of ‘rigidity’, distorting in and around itself in oscillating waves of auditory hallucination. Addressing political, social, controversial and subversive current affairs, it’s a colourful record anchored by a deep-rooted, anatomical melancholy.

An intoxicating documentation of two years of travel, exploration and adventure, it is, in essence, ‘under the influence’ – the influence of the ups, downs, fear and joy of life. Everything Acid Washed have seen, heard, or felt throughout their two years of touring and record-writing has been transformed into a psychedelic auditory experience, resulting in a sound than vividly changes and inspires its own form and escape. Like acid, first experience of the record will make you either love it or hate it. But even if you hate it, if you stick with it and try it out a few more times, it might just win you over. And when it does, it will blow your mind into whole new dimension. (The album, not acid. Drugs are bad and I am not endorsing their use. Just listen to Acid Washed instead.)

– Charlie Clarkson

House of Melancholy is available from July 29 on Record Makers.