EPK — Psychic Graveyard

"This guy’s solipsistic, overly literal, his mind orbiting another planet, the mix unevenly doubling his inner monologues: 'What do I wear to your funeral / When we were together, I never wore clothes.' Synth player Nathan Joyner, guitarist Paul Vieira, and drummer Charles Ovett all up the psychodrama by savage degrees, leading off with a grinding, foghorn dirge that eventually expands into a punishing industrial hailstorm."

— SPIN

"If the music itself isn't in retreat from society then, society backs away from it."

— The Wire

“The new electronic, stream-of-consciousness technofear clip from former members of Arab On Radar, Some Girls and All Leather is as much fun as you can have without being trapped in a poorly ventilated room with gallons of spilled cleaning products.“

— Alternative Press

“It makes sense that the nutjobs behind such a work of deranged genius would come from bands including Arab on Radar, Doomsday Student and Some Girls.”

— Revolver Magazine

Biography

Simply checking the pedigrees (ex-Arab On Radar, Chinese Stars, Some Girls, Doomsday Student, and Hot Nerdz) will only get you so far with Psychic Graveyard. With a manic output of four full-length albums—Loud As Laughter, A Bluebird Vacation, Veins Feel Strange, and now the brilliant Wilting–in nearly as many years, Psychic Graveyard makes consistently thrilling and unsettled sonic artifacts for a world emptied out and flattened by a joyless and sociopathic mediascape. But some things do stay consistent across their ruptured anti-aesthetic: Charles Ovett’s relentless workflow on the drums; the burbling sawtooth substructures, grimy lead synths, and deconstructed guitars supplied by Nathan Joyner and Paul Vieira; and, of course, vocalist Eric Paul’s many narrators and personas, who find form as ghosts howling from within the machine or as agitated surrealists living lives huddled in the grimmest of redoubts. On the new LP Wilting, once again a product of geographic dispersion (Providence and San Diego), the band invites the listener to peel back the pedigrees and fall headlong into their twitchy waking dream.

-John Rieder (Secret Fun Club + Nonexistent Night)