Review Summary: get chuffed.
In the understatement of the week, OM’s fourth album
God is Good does not sound any different to their previous albums. However, before letting your inferior minds totally misjudge my subtlety, let me bluntly point out that OM f
ucking rule. 2007’s
Pilgrimage was arguably OM’s most focused release - despite the sneaky J grandeur of their oft cited masterpiece
Conference of the Birds, hearing the punch in the face bass of ‘Unitive Knowledge of the Godhead’ while on the spliff stick is a musical moment that is not easily forgotten.
Despite a line-up change (which to other unenlightened bands consisting of only two members would be the end), Al Cisnero keeps OM’s sound afloat in the absence of drummer Chris Hakius. In essence, OM is a ganja-fuelled spiritual journey consisting of simplistic yet invigorating beats and mind melting bass lines, with this combination under Cisnero’s plodding vocals and outlandishly toasted lyrics being one of utter dankness.
God is Good’s main focus is undoubtedly the opening track ‘Thebes’. It’s longer than the other three combined, and really is just an awesome magic carpet ride through orange canyons and elephant stars. It recalls the cheeba rasta splendor of
Conference of the Birds while being the ultimate twenty minute spiritual enlightenment, easily a contender for OM’s greatest crispy binger of a track.
Although it may be in ignorance to the nature of their listeners, OM opt to include a creepy flute in ‘Meditation is the Practise of Death’ – while this is definitely a very good thing, adding an interesting element to the song and in turn raising its appeal, hearing those flutes when on the reefer is a moment of utter wide-eyed horror.
It’s perhaps become the norm to associate the phrase ‘Tibetan chants’ with OM, seeing as they make the most of emulating Nepalese mountain climbing pothead monks, but the overabundance of the term definitely becomes an annoyance – nevertheless, the short two part closer to
God is Good, ‘Cremation Ghat’ parts I and II, reeks of spiritualistic mumbo jumbo and hazy doobie smoke. Such explicit reference to their influences is not common on OM’s past work, but this variation in style does not impede the album’s surge whatsoever.
It’s easy to criticise OM – they always play the same basic style, rely on repetition, and are in general not something to listen to when you go to the gym or whatever else it is that faggots do. Such a plain view of the band is based around a misconception, that being the idea that OM’s music can be some sort of immediate musical satisfaction. This could not be further from (un)reality. The only way to truly enjoy OM is to light the sky, fall into the clouds and let the bass caress your body – there really is no other way.
