Nineteenth album for the band Telescopes, a creation of Stephen Lawrie who has now defused the shoegaze and noise impulses in favor of a dark and narcotic psychedelic rock. The static charge (“Static Charge”) evoked by the title of the project is actually the main protagonist of a record which, compared to the controversial previous “Halo Moon”, offers a more solid backbone thanks to the contribution of the band, who recorded the entire project live in the studio.
The cathartic black mass psych of the Telescopes offers more and more references to blues and gospel, and tries once again to capture the furious energy of their live performances. The result, however, is an all too linear minimalism: a hypnotic indolence that floats in an abstract limbo, incapable of dealing the final blow to the listener. Seven mantras for a liturgy that fails to gather new followers.
There is no shortage of reasons for appreciation. The dark dissonances of the Jesus & Mary Chain of “White Noise” are dusty and dark at the right point, but the album continues between uncertainties (“28 Grams”) and drops in tone (“Revolutionary Blues” and the superfluous “I Dream Of Fever”). The latter are fortunately tempered by the spiritual decadence and out of tune of “Come Around”, and the slowcore pace of “Still Nothing”.
What's missing is the jolt that could put the Telescopes back into the big leagues, although Stephen Lawrie must be given credit for being coherent and sufficiently motivated. The real redemption comes only in the almost ten final minutes of “Desolation Grows”: a majestic dark and melancholy blaze that demonstrates that, after all, the spark has not yet gone out.
07/18/2026
Daniel D`Amico for SANREMO.FM
