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Spawned from the formidable Louisville, KY
collective known as Black Velvet Fuckere (Valley
Of The Ashes, Phantom Family Halo, Kark, etc.),
Sapat resides as the centrifugal force in
this Midwestern psychedelic madrigal set in the
psychosexual backwaters of the mighty Ohio
River. For the entirety of the '00 decade,
members have kept busy collaborating with and/or
massaging the egos of various and sundry
avant-pontiffs such as Robert Fripp, Magik
Markers, Dead Child (David Pajo's metal band.
That's right, David Pajo!) and Eugene Chadbourne
-- when not honing the orgone energy of Sapat.
The Fall of '06 saw their debut release, a
seven-inch on BVF entitled Tongue-Tied &
Staid that had a few astute bloggers
comparing the action within to "aggressive blues
a la Captain Beefheart and The Magic Band."
However, for this self-titled full-length
release, Sapat has opted for a different, more
organic sonic waft. Acoustically packed to the
gills, the octet effortlessly strums and blows
breezy vibes, emitting kosmisch melodies and
Teutonic ambience that channel-- Julian
Cope-like-- past giants such as Limbus 4, Siloah
and Lord Krishna Von Goloka (you know, the
A-team of Krautrock). Once you launch into the
group's spacey and entrancing, yet calming and
soothing asteroid belt, you might mistake the
Ozarks for the Alps if you're not careful. And
who could blame you? You're way up there and the
air's thin; hallucinating's a must.
The Fall of '06 saw their debut release, a
seven-inch on BVF entitled Tongue-Tied & Staid
that had a few astute bloggers comparing the
action within to "aggressive blues a la Captain
Beefheart and The Magic Band." However, for this
self-titled full-length release, Sapat has opted
for a different, more organic sonic waft.
Acoustically packed to the gills, the octet
effortlessly strums and blows breezy vibes,
emitting kosmisch melodies and Teutonic ambience
that channel -- Julian Cope-like -- past giants
such as Limbus 4, Siloah and Lord Krishna Von
Goloka (you know, the A-team of Krautrock). Once
you launch into the group's spacey and
entrancing, yet calming and soothing asteroid
belt, you might mistake the Ozarks for the Alps
if you're not careful. And who could blame you?
You're way up there and the air's thin;
hallucinating's a must. |
