CD: 10.000 Russos - 10.000 Russos

A muscular psychedelic debut from Portugal that heads straight for the dance-floor

share this article

10.000 Russos: motorik monsters with driving grooves

There is something strange happening in mainland Europe at the moment. Perhaps this has been spurred on by a feeling that the old certainties of the past aren’t quite so solid, but a mind-expanding psychedelia with an eye for the dance-floor and free of navel-gazing pastoral whimsy has been springing up in all kinds of unexpected places. Bands like Goat and Sonic Jesus (from Sweden and Italy respectively) have begun to make themselves heard by peddling sonic rituals that take their cues from a far bigger world than late ‘60s California, and it is out of this miasma that Portuguese threesome 10.000 Russos (pronounced Dez Mill Russos) have emerged with their self-titled album.

Expansive soundscapes beget motorik monsters with driving grooves and half-heard vocals on trippy but intense tunes like “Karl Burns” and “Baden Baden Baden”, bringing to mind the Spacemen 3-like sound of electro-punks Suicide jamming with krautrock titans Neu – and often collapsing into howling feedback-powered drones. While “Us vs Us” brings another dimension to 10.000 Russos’ groove and comes across like late ‘80s acid house played on conventional rock instruments. It’s infectious stuff and could almost have rubbed up against the likes of A Guy Called Gerald’s “Voodoo Ray” back in the days of acid madness without causing a dance floor exodus to the bar.

The 13-minute long “Stakhanovets/Kalunet”, however, is the cherry on the cake here. It’s an exhilarating psychedelic wig-out that brings to mind the Velvet Underground’s “Sister Ray” with its pounding beat and distorted vocals backed by wailing guitars and a bagful of effects pedals. It also provides a dark but strangely uplifting groove that is anything but background music and again demonstrates why our European cousins are at the head of the psychedelic pack these days.

Mind-expanding psychedelia with an eye for the dance-floor and free of navel-gazing pastoral whimsy has been springing up in all kinds of unexpected places

rating

4

share this article

Support the future of arts journalism

Subscribe to theartsdesk.com

Thanks so much for choosing genuinely independent arts journalism theartsdesk’s mission has never been more important – in an age of relentless algorithmic recommendation, sponsored content and unreliable AI, the expertise and discernment of individual critics deeply embedded in their specialist areas is absolutely vital.

If you want more of that in your life, why not subscribe now?

If you do this before the 31st August, you’ll be able to keep at this “founders rate” for life: your subs will never increase! You can choose to subscribe annually for just £40 simply click here
or monthly for £5 per month simply click here.

Not ready to subscribe?

If you want to support with a little extra or aren’t ready to subscribe just yet, there’s also the option to give direct to our crowdfunder to support our imminent redesign and exciting expansion with new features and collaborations Simply contribute here: https://gofund.me/c3f6033d.

However you choose to be involved, you can proudly say that you are picking the right side in the battle for truth and humanity in the modern information landscape. And we will be very glad to have you on board!

more new music

Surrealism, social observation and more muscular sound from the Leeds quartet
A powerful personal outpouring of joy and pain - with a great beat
The London quartet have taken to playing large venues with ease, as this career-spanning set showed
The Lebanese-French musician's father was behind a unique musical innovation
The Philadelphia punk rockers continue to impress
A partial account of how Brit-punk absorbed an aspect of reggae
The Fez Festival Of World Sacred Music and the Fes Gathering bring the world together
Bristol band aren't happy but offer up the occasional sing-along
A new album is unveiled and old tunes are played for the last time