Bloody hell, Wolfmother just blew DIY’s ear drums. The screaming, fucked up, progged out ‘Dimension’ starts the band’s self titled debut as it means to go on, and, as long as nobody mentions a passing similarity to Gaz Coombes, they’re stopping for nobody.
In a way, it’s a shame. We’re not overly sure if we need another drugged up mid Seventies rock revival, but that’s exactly what Wolfmother have in mind. ‘Unicorn’, a hazy lesson in psychedelica, is followed by another (‘Woman’), and another (‘Where Eagles Dare’). Even though the latter makes an impressive stand with its powerful acoustic tendencies, it’s all rather samey.
That’s not to say it’s bad; quite the opposite. In its field Wolfmother is the kind of album that demands attention. ‘Minds Eye’ has the kind of magical edge of Pink Floyd at their very best, and that’s where they both stand and fall.
An exceptional album of its kind, it’s not about the here and now any more than the there and then. Wolfmother aren’t fresh, forward thinking or revolutionary, but if you’re in the right frame of mind, they’ll be very hard to beat.
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Like its canine cousin, this wolf has a little bark left - but no real bite.