Consuming the Tangible

It’s weird to be starting here, with the latest burst of garage psych sweetness from John Dwyer and co., but sometimes that’s how it goes. I fell into the Osees hole (or Thee Oh Sees, or Oh Sees, or OCS, or whatever new permutation Dwyer comes up with) in 2016 with the dual release of A Weird Exits and An Odd Entrances. It was also at the same time as my discovery of Ty Segall, and like that multi-hyphenate band leader, Dwyer and his rotating cast of musicians have put out a TON of music: at least seven proper LPs, not to mention reinterpretations, 20 minute long singles, and a bevy of side project (Bent Arcana being my favorite). But I just got my sweet vinyl for Intercepted Message, the outfit’s synth-heavy pop rock hybrid and latest release, so what better time than now to start talking about one of my favorite current bands?

It was on the strength of albums like the above mentioned A Weird Exits, as well as records like Orc and Smote Reverser that put me firmly in the Dwyer camp, willing to go in blind and aurally open (eeeewww) to whatever direction they pursued, whether it was the mammoth noise/prog of something like the double album Face Stabber or the ugly hardcore punk of last year’s A Foul Form. Truth be told the last album left me more than a little cold, one of the few times the band left little to no impression on me.

So it’s a nice surprise to hear how dynamic and fun Intercepted Message is. It certainly helps that the album is super front-loaded, opener “Stunner” is exactly what its name implies: awash in bright keyboard runs and the heavy thud of double drummers (the excellent Dan Rincon and Paul Quattrone) it’s a foot stomper of the highest order. “Blank Chems” is even better for my money, its intro giving off heavy 80s new/no wave vibes and Dwyer’s signature bark popping long with yelps, howls, and “uh-ohs!” galore. There’s a sense of space in the song that’s refreshing when you consider how dense so much of Osees’ music can be. Both the title track and “Die Laughing” follow, with the latter echoing to my ears what the Clash buried themselves into during the Sandinista!/Black Market Clash recordings. It’s a great groove, and a testament to how tight the band can lock in once they get their teeth into the material, as evidenced in the live album performance below:

Elsewhere if things tend to meander a little, that’s okay. I’m still not 100% sold on the their cover of Blurt’s “The Fish Needs a Bike” (although I dig the sax soloing in it), and “Goon” feels more than a little repetitive – granted, that a complaint you can make of a lot of the band’s music, but positioning this as the leadoff to Side 2 brings the energy but not the thrill that “Stunner” did. Things pick back after that – I really dig the 50s pop by way of Ramones attack of “Chaos Heart,” while both “Submerged Building” and “Sleazed Psycho” offer some great keyboard sections, the latter edging into Zappa territory during one particular break.

If there’s a left turn to Intercepted Message, it’s in its final two tracks. “Always at Night” is a fuzzy, tender attempt at a love song, and I’m not sure it completely works, but it’s such a departure from everything else – not only on Intercepted Message but on the last decade at least of the band’s output – that I can appreciate it even as it edges past its welcome at over seven minutes. Finally, and perhaps more successfully, there’s the “hidden” track, a cover of “Opus No. 1” which for years was used as hold music for a number of companies. It’s short, doesn’t overstay its welcome, and despite its original intention as hold music, serves well as a cap to what may be Osees’ best album since before the pandemic.