Wondrous, majestic, and fantastical, Magic Fig’s debut rarely feels of these times, and it’s all the better for it. As so many struggle with their day to day existence, trying to make ends meet as the world crumbles around them, it’s not hype and “buzz” that we’re in search of, but a great escape, a place beyond the daily grind, beyond this realm altogether. The band’s self-titled album is an ever shifting kaleidoscope, the shapes all recognizable yet refracted in mirrored splendor. It’s a decidedly pop odyssey that wanders deep into the woods of late 60’s prog, Moog altered psych, and dream pop at its most visionary, a lysergic trip into an unknown cosmic past. As the isolation of the pandemic developed a need for collaboration and a communal approach in its wake, so came to be Magic Fig, stepping outside our reality, figuratively and somewhat literally as we decontextualize those involved from their best known work.
Featuring a selection of the Bay Area’s indie pop elite that includes members of The Umbrellas, Whitney’s Playland, Almond Joy, and Healing Potpourri, they’ve strayed beyond the jangle and crunch of power-pop, beyond any remnants of twee charm, instead embracing a tireless radiance and tasteful complexity. Magic Fig, comprised of Jon Chaney (keys), Matthew Ferrara (bass), Taylor Giffin (drums), Muzzy Moskowitz (guitars), and Inna Showalter (vocals), has one foot deep in the explorative and enigmatic world of Canterbury prog and the other in the pitch-bending dimension of psych. With nods to pioneers like Soft Machine, Caravan, and The United States of America, it’s clear that Magic Fig comes from a place of reverence, but the band are playing by their own rules. Having mastered the core elements of fuzzy pop hooks in their respective projects, they’re flexing different muscles, diving into the immersive abstract.
There’s an incredible balance to the record, the structures contort and drift into the choral abyss yet remain compact and breezy. It’s unabashed prog with a childlike glow, re-orchestrating our brains in under a half an hour, the band as concise as they are dazzling. The way Magic Fig weaves amorphous keys and dexterous rhythms with vocal melodies that feel more Broadcast or Stereolab than say Caravan, is rich with texture and immaculate detail. This isn’t progressive in an overtly flashy or indulgent way, the band are simply changing our mind’s chemistry, astounding with a graceful technicality (Taylor Giffin’s drumming alone will leave jaws glued to the floor). The songs evolve in plumes of serenity, a never ending dream that remains eternally engaged, impossible to walk away from unchanged. Working together with producer Joel Robinow (of Once and Future Band, Howlin Rain), Magic Fig found their kindred spirit, an engineer whose own musical output could be considered their sonic and spiritual sibling. The recording is clear and precise, yet never overly polished, captured with a retro warmth that details each colossal drum fill, the natural waves of structural shifts, the celestial layering, and the unearthly hum of the manipulated Moog.
Magic Fig’s blend of prog and psych is sophisticated and developed, there’s a sense of patience even in the most dexterous of movements. From the hypnotic blossom of album opener “Goodbye Suzy” and its luminescent harmonies and the cavalcade of divergent drum patterns to the folk-leaning ease and natural aura of “Departure,” the band feel locked into the whole. They’re painting in unison with shimmering renaissance detail to create a singular masterpiece, a culmination of widespread ideas, each stunning texture given room to expand, balanced and with perfect synergy. Where songs like “PS1” lean toward lounge psych and “Distant Dream” opts for a laconic jazz induced art pop drift (reminiscent of Pearl & The Oysters), Magic Fig pair those moments with the pulsating paisley prog spirals of the appropriately named “Labyrinth” and the building disorientation of “Obliteration,” a song both gentle, soaring, and at times, rhythmically jagged.
Magic Fig is a record best experienced with an open mind. While the prog and psych inclinations create mountainous dynamics, being a fan of either genre isn’t inherently necessary on a record that’s far more accessible than one might imagine. Grandiose but delicate, Magic Fig are putting the pop into prog, and it’s safe to say they’ve stumbled onto something special, a slinking metamorphosis from magical dream state to vivid sonic exploration. From: http://post-trash.com/news/2024/5/12/album-of-the-week-magic-fig-magic-fig
