Pressurehead: ‘The Live EP’ [Review]
If rock was human, it would be fast approaching retirement and looking forward to a nice, relaxing, peaceful existence free of the endless struggles against the enforced conformity faced by every person over the course of their adult lives. Over the course of its near-sixty-year existence rock has also spawned a great many offspring that took up the fight against cultural paralysis and inertia. From Sgt. Pepper and Hendrix to punk, prog, and post-rock, each generation has created its own unique take on rock’s original blueprint, helping to evolve the genre in the process. Read more…
The title of this EP sums it up perfectly. To save you a Google search, the term ‘Maya’ refers to the supernatural ability to create illusions, such as the various sensory inputs we all encounter naturally over the course of our lives, as well as those idiosyncratic, subjective experiences that lead us to conclude that we each exist as separate, individual selves. These illusions then become the cause of much suffering, dis-ease, and confusion – and any efforts to escape their all-pervading influence can in turn lead a struggling consciousness into even more confusion, to the point of becoming lost in a philosophical and existential labyrinth. 
We all know the feelings unique to Monday mornings. The bleary-eyed knackeredness, the aching muscles, the brain filled with thoughts and memories of the weekend that, perhaps, make us wish we hadn’t been born with neurons. What you need is to wake up – to be unceremoniously jolted out of your inertia-filled state of conscious unconsciousness. We all have our own rituals with which to achieve this: a morning workout, jog, cigarette, coffee, espresso, Red Bull, perhaps all of the above. But these options require actual physical effort. At the very least, you need to get out of bed. Hassle. 
Wow. Seriously, just wow. As incredible as progressive music is, it remains a rare treat to discover music of that ilk which manages to condense an epic’s worth of consciousness-twisting ideas into a space of time more usually reserved for punk songs about being angry, being angry about being angry, and/or indulging in immature toilet humour, and then makes it work in a way that keeps you coming back for more, never becoming bored even ten listens later. A series of tiny balls of complexity that will take months to really unravel, ‘A Conundrum On My Coffee Table’ is a spectacular mini-album that should keep your headphones glued to your ears. Just remember to tear them away when operating heavy machinery. 
Here in the UK, spring is taking its sweet time in joining us. However, just as the first rays of sunlight tentatively poke through the clouds we already have cause to dance around like it’s scorching hot outside thanks to Guildfordian gypsy swing sextet Lunatrix and their debut EP, appropriately entitled Mr Sunshine. A set of five finely crafted, bouncy, and engaging songs chock full of tasteful guitars, driving drums, and flamboyant trumpet licks, the Mr Sunshine EP is the perfect soundtrack to your summer, even if it hasn’t technically started yet. And by the time you’re sweltering in the park or chilling out on a moonlit beach, you’ll be well-practiced in singing along to the faultless vocals of Abi Evans and Kristy Poulton as they discus life, love, and…well…grabbing men’s arses, apparently.