Carpe Diem, Moonman: A Review of Psychedelic Porn Crumpet's Newest Psychedelic Overload

Since the teaser of an EP they released on March 27th, I have been impatiently waiting for Psychedelic Porn Crumpets to release their seventh studio album, Carpe Diem, Moonman. It was finally released on May 15th, and it is every bit as good as I was expecting. Psychedelic Porn Crumpets’s Carpe Diem, Moonman remains true to the band’s reputation of combining brain-scratching guitar riffs and low-pitched screams with deep and profound lyrics that make you question society and the meaning of the universe. Psychedelic Porn Crumpets are one of the defining bands from Australia’s psychedelic rock revival of the mid 2010s, contributing to the creation of a completely unique genre of psychedelic rock that also has so much musical range it almost can’t be confined to just one genre. While I would argue that their whole discography fits this description, this new album not only met the expectation of quality set by their previous albums, but completely surpassed it. 

The album ranges from songs that make you want to throw yourself into a mosh pit and give yourself whiplash to softer tunes that make you want to close your eyes and sway with the melody. This variety of music within one album is not at all out of line with the band’s style, and the order of songs gives you a bit of back and forth between the two different energies. When listening to the album all the way through, I felt like I was having an existential crisis while falling into a kaleidoscope and loving every second of it. 

The album starts off strong with “Another Reincarnation” followed by “March on for Pax Ramona”, both high-energy songs that I just know will be instigating wild mosh pits and crowd surfers at their shows. The lead singer, Jack McEwan, delivers the dramatic lyrics of the first song with his out-of-breath screaming, which is punctuated throughout “Another Reincarnation” by the way his voice shifts into a softer tone (but a higher pitch) at either the beginning or the end of a verse. The strident guitars, hard and fast bass, and of course, the rolling drums that bring it all together make it the perfect introduction to the rest of the album. Then, “March on for Pax Ramona” uses brain-scratching guitar riffs and thundering drums, creating intense instrumental buildups that abruptly fade into a background tempo when the lyrics come in. The verses are spoken rather than sung, McEwan’s voice fuses with a distorted echo, amplifying the sheer weirdness of the lyrics as they build into the explosive screaming of the chorus. I can already feel the flailing limbs that are going to hit me in the face during that song in concert. 

The next song, “Qwik Maff”, is drastically toned down, featuring acoustic guitar and prominent keyboards. It follows the style of some of the more “chill” songs off their previous albums (e.g. “Coffee” from High Visceral, Pt. 2), with soft vocals and dreamy, almost ambient instrumentals. The album then picks back up on its original pace with “Weird World Awoke”, an energetic, fast-paced song that is simultaneously a headbanger as well as a powerful social critique. It makes you want to jump around and scream along, but also sit back and be consumed by the lyrics – or somehow both at the same time. This was the first song on the EP that dropped in March, and I have been obsessed with it since. Following this sensory overload, Psychedelic Porn Crumpets then return to their softer, dreamy sound with “As the Hummingbird Hovers” and “Scapegoat”, in which the vocals completely blend into the music leaving lots of space for the instrumental breaks to evoke a sort of floating surrealism. 

After jumping between these two distinct sounds in the album, “Incubator (V2000)” brings the two together with its harsh, raw guitar, drums and screaming chorus along with some twinkling keyboard and acoustic guitar sprinkled in, making it sound both dreamy and fierce at the same time. It is followed by “Winter in Parachutes”, a gentle acoustic song good for swaying and daydreaming. The next track, “Out the Universe Pours”, exemplifies the range of this album once more. The heavy, grating intensity of the electric and percussive, in tandem with the light, floaty sound of the acoustic, seemingly pulls your mind into a different dimension. The album ends with “Concrete & Cola”, a six-minute song with an intro that gives the impression that it will turn into one of their more intense songs, but deceivingly ends up being a smooth, peaceful tune that ends with about 40 seconds of cute chirping bird noises. This closing track makes for a wholesome outro to Carpe Diem, Moonman, especially in contrast to the album’s harsh beginning.

To attempt to sum it up, Carpe Diem, Moonman is a complete trip of an album. With its musical and emotional range and the way that it moves between completely different energies throughout the album, Carpe Diem, Moonman has something for everyone. If you’re the type of person who likes to analyze lyrics and look for deeper meanings and social criticism, this is definitely the album for you. If you just like to blast music and get lost in your own head, this album does that too. I highly recommend this album for anyone who is a fan of indie and/or psychedelic rock. Or just anyone who will listen to me, really.

Oshra is the host of On The Right Track, an electronic music exposition every Sunday 10-11pm