Mean Motor Scooter: Hindu Flying Machine — album Inspection
Texan quartet, Mean Motor Scooter, hit the floor running on their introduction full size, which can be chock-full of unique psych-garage blasts and fuzzed-out mayhem. Louder Than War’s Nathan Whittle takes a trip on their flying device.
Mean Motor Scooter live on the planet of kitsch, fuzzy, literary, B-movie paranoia. The tunes by, crop circles, chock of references to aliens, lizard men, and all things. After a short phone phone , they kick the album off with the We’re Not Alone, the current addition of keys for their line-up including jabbing pulses behind the broken radio vocals. From there, they fall into Wavespotting, like a gonzo Dead Kennedys turning out of control. Mean Motor Scooter draw heavily on a traditional garage-punk sound, but that is not to mention that they are pegged by it back . Underneath the fuzz of all Sea Serpent establishes but this is no and white waves, rather a noxious Martian swamp that rolls backwards and sucks on you under.
Elsewhere, they either fall into lazy drifting interludes (Cosmonaut), or up the stakes in beating paranoia, such as on album highlight, Shape Shifter along with the driving Come And Get It. It also seems that they might have drunk out of the very same, “Let’s educate the children” fountain of They Might Be Giants, together with the almost Dr-Seuss-like rhyming educational narrative of Sam The Homosapien, a story of the growth of humanity, place to some bopping, jaunty rhythm that takes off into the fuzzosphere when they hit the chorus.
Part B-52s, part Jack White, a fall of Dead Kennedys, 100 crap, and all. Mean Motor Scooter’s blend of the garage-psych punk makes for go-go jive the moons have grown and until the sun has set and a record.
All phrases by Nathan Whittle. Find his Louder Than War archive here.