Infect yourself with the spooky fun grooves and neo-psychedelic visions of Himalaya’s powerful eponymous debut.
In Brooklyn, there’s no compromise with Himalaya. The post '90s psychedelic experimentalists burst out of the New York underground with its self-titled debut, a masterful grooving specimen that goes down warm like a glass of whiskey and makes you want to move like any good buzz should. Imagine the agitated grooves of Neil Young mixed with the vivid guitar hooks and eerie vocals of Pink Floyd smeared with the dirty sound of the Velvet Underground, and you have a Himalaya cocktail. The sextet’s potent blend of disinterested energy and mystery wrapped in big riffs give the listener the unmistakable feeling of being powerful and beautifully strange, and the feeling is infectious. Every track on the album sounds like an anthem, even the lush, spooky, and down-tempo bits. From the sunset awe of “Don’t Stop (Labor Day)” to the rush of fast cymbals and droning riffs begging for the eerie, calm antidote of ghost vocals on “Melt Away” and the spooky come-down hallucinations on “Sleep”, Himalaya’s music commands the listener's attention and captures it in an album that effortlessly stacks one magical track after another. With a supernatural moan and domineering energy, Himalaya is an epic synthesis of old-fashioned guitar rock, future noise, and the bold pioneering spirit of all good rock.