The Psychedelic Sounds of Turn Me On, Dead Man | 2026.10

TMODM: “Foreign Agent" feels like both a personal and political statement, wrapped in that hypnotic, psych haze. How did that track come together, and what role does it play in setting the tone for Losey?

Gnoomes: The song came together incredibly naturally. I picked up my guitar and started playing the main riff, and for some reason a melody in the spirit of Lou Reed immediately came into my head. I have a slightly nasal voice anyway, so I instinctively started singing in that style. The lyrics arrived almost instantly. It was one of those rare songs that felt completely spontaneous from beginning to end.

To be honest, we had felt like “foreign agents” in Russia long before the term became part of our lives. We were always uncomfortable with the oppressive atmosphere in our country. Once we started touring and playing shows with the band, we saw the world and realized there were places where people didn’t judge you simply because you had long hair or thought differently.

That’s why I see this song as a kind of manifesto. In a way, we’ve always identified with the idea of being outsiders. At the same time, we’re fully aware that in Russia, being labelled a “foreign agent” has very real and devastating consequences. People have their bank accounts frozen, receive huge fines, and the pressure often extends to their families. We also have close friends who have been designated as “foreign agents”, and we’ve seen first-hand how much they’ve suffered because of it.

After moving to Slovenia, we found ourselves thinking about all of this even more. With this song, we wanted to turn the meaning of that label upside down. We wanted to transform something intended as a stigma into something closer to a title, almost a badge of honour. For us, there’s nothing shameful about it. If anything, there’s a certain sense of pride in it.

TMODM: There’s a strong sense of transition around Losey, especially with your move from Russia to Slovenia and the idea of starting fresh in a new environment. How did that shift—personally and physically—reshape how you approached making this record?

Gnoomes: Moving from Russia to Slovenia completely changed our environment and, in many ways, our creative process. We sometimes joke that it wasn’t just our decision to move, it was our nervous system’s decision as well.

I don’t want to idealise Slovenia, but in terms of feeling safe and having the freedom to create without constantly looking over your shoulder, the difference is enormous. Living in a quiet village, in a beautiful house surrounded by nature, gave us the space to slow down and process everything we’d been through. We tried to pour all of those experiences—the pandemic, the beginning of the war, uncertainty, relocation—into the music that eventually became Losey.

At the same time, our methods haven’t really changed. We’ve always preferred making everything ourselves at home. It’s still a completely DIY record, created entirely by the two of us, just as most of our music has been from the very beginning. So the process itself stayed the same. What changed completely were the circumstances in which we were able to make music. And I think that’s the biggest difference.

TMODM: Across your releases you’ve explored everything from krautrock to shoegaze and electronic music. Did you consciously try to break form on Losey, or did the genre-blurring just evolve naturally out of the process this time?

Gnoomes: We’ve always loved mixing together everything that genuinely inspires us. Every song starts as a little “what if?” experiment.

What if Gnoomes sounded like the Chemical Brothers? What if we combined Steve Reich’s repetitive structures with the kind of pop melodies Phil Collins writes? Those kinds of impossible combinations are where our songs usually begin. At first, those experiments were quite scary because we simply didn’t have enough experience to pull them off. Sometimes they worked, sometimes they didn’t, but we kept trying. Over the years we’ve become much more confident technically, and by the time we made Losey we finally had the tools to realise the ideas we were hearing in our heads.

It’s all very natural. We listen to an enormous amount of music, and it all settles somewhere in our conscious and subconscious minds. We even keep playlists that we come back to whenever we need inspiration. Sometimes you can almost catch your own brain in the act: this rhythm came from here, that harmony came from somewhere else. And then, somehow, everything melts together into something that no longer sounds like any of its sources.

That’s what excites us most. You begin with a hypothesis, but the best moments happen when everything goes off script and the music surprises you instead.

TMODM: El Bienestar del Espíritu seems to put rhythm at the center more than some of your earlier psychedelic and experimental work. What opened that shift for you, and how did you build the songs around bass and drums?

Pirámides: The idea of composing based on the rhythm instead of melody or harmony is not new to the band, but it is something that has been growing on every record. Most of our songs come from arranging recorded improvisations. In El Bienestar del Espíritu, "con las aves" would probably be the best example of a song that was built upon a "drum riff". Before this new album, the songs "Lengua Natal" and "Bosque" had a similar process.

In the early years of the band, around 2016, our gear got stolen twice and the instruments we had left were mostly percussions. Those events had a big impact on the way we approach our music. Although the situation was tragic, it gave us the freedom to play with whatever we had available, and we learned how ecstatic live performances can be when focusing on drum patterns.

On the other hand, we are all very interested in polyrhythms (the song "Refugio" might be a good example for this). The bass and drum heavy aspect of our music increased from the influence that using a gimbri had in our music. This Moroccan string instrument is also a percussion, and gnawa music (which is almost an inevitable influence when you play the gimbri) is heavily percussive and melodic simultaneously. The song "Sawa Yukawi" would be a good example of a gimbri-drum heavy song.

Since we are a trio and we don't use harmonic instruments (vocals, saxophone, and synth are all monophonic), we rely a lot on rhythm.

TMODM: Pirámides is described as coming from Monterrey via Tucson, with Mexican and Latin American influences woven into the record. How do those geographies and influences shape the music?

Pirámides: I am the only Mexican member left in the band, but I think the influences from Mexico and Latin America are mostly present in the lyrics, in the way I play and, perhaps, in how I compose within a group. I'm easily influenced by the environment and I feel like the very hot weather from Monterrey and Tucson are not so different. That is a connection point for me and landscape is reflected on everything. Both cities are near the border so, in a way, they both feel kind of liminal and somehow isolated.

To me, Grant (saxophone and synth) and Casey (drums) reflect the landscape of Arizona in the way they play because they grew up around here (Phoenix and Las Vegas) and they both have been involved in the Tucson music scene for many years and reflect the diversity you can find in the Tucson underground. Playing with them has shaped the way I make music and maybe vice versa. It's hard for me to separate from things when everything is very intertwined inside of me.

TMODM: The album title translates roughly as "The Well-Being of the Spirit." What does that phrase mean to you? Was it something that emerged from the songs themselves, or did it become a guiding idea for the record as a whole?

Pirámides: The meaning of El Bienestar del Espíritu is something that I'm still deciphering. This name/phrase came to my head around the time we were recording the album and I knew right away that it was the album's title. This happened when I was leaving my friend Rebeca Bollinger's house; her art to me feels deeply spiritual and the lyrics of these songs and the process of making them somehow resonated with that spirit. The title has worked for me as a reminder of what music is.

TMODM: Your new album takes its title from Jun’ichirō Tanizaki’s book In Praise of Shadows, and you've mentioned the album is a darker effort about finding hidden beauty in the shadows, especially given the current political/social climate. How does the track "Underworld" reflect this search for good in the darkness?

The Asteroid No. 4: It’s funny. Looking back on it I thought “Underworld” was optimistic lyrically speaking, but thinking about it now, it seems like such a downer! It’s really meant to be about what lies beneath what’s been built up over the years due to complacency or simply laziness. Kind of a getting down to the foundation or “back to the roots” of something. It was written more from a relationship standpoint, but now that you bring up the tie back to the social/political climate, I guess there’s a lot of parallels with that too. Seems like it’s time for a revolution.

TMODM: In the past, you've talked about writing as a complete live band and capturing everything on vintage analog tape machines, but In Praise of Shadows goes into new territory with electronic elements and processed drums. What inspired this shift towards electronic instrumentation, and how did incorporating processed drums change your approach in the studio?

The Asteroid No. 4: Well, speed and doing our best to avoid “demoitis” had a lot to do with it. And by that I mean, like most artists, we always wind up liking our first idea more than the result of spending too much time overthinking things. The processed drums and sounds is much of what was left from when we were demoing these songs and deciding to just “leave it”.

The other part, and this has been an issue with us before, is we’ve had members or a member in the past that was quite vocal or anti anything electronic to the point where for years we appeased through compromise. And talk about the worst thing to do as an artist or artists! The band came from a huge fondness towards electronic music whether it’s 70s German artists, hip-hop, or Suicide, Silver Apples, to all of the dark/cold wave we grew up listening to. So in many ways this last album was us finally shaking off what’s bound us for far too long, and I suspect there’s more of that based on what we’re working on now.

TMODM: As you experiment with these new electronic sounds, how do you go about ensuring the music retains that signature "haze" that has defined The Asteroid No. 4 for so long? Or do you not think about it that way?

The Asteroid No. 4: We don’t really think about it that way. We’ve been at this a really long time and for better or for worse we’ve tried a lot of different things that at the end of the day still sounded like us. “Haze” as you put it comes from our earliest DNA which is coming from a “shoegaze” perspective. We were formed from that, we’ve always layered it in somehow, and in most cases the highly effected guitars and vocals is simply who we are.

TMODM: When I asked you last year about the strongest influence on Songs For Workers, you mentioned Mongolian and Chinese folk music, Irish folk, Miles Davis, Weather Report, and your dad’s bass lines. With “Tomorrow Never Knows,” you’re working with a song that's already so tied to psychedelia, tape experimentation, and Eastern philosophy. How did you decide what to preserve from the Beatles’ original and what to open up into Tian Qiyi’s own sound world?

Tian Qiyi: We mainly wanted to preserve the energy of the original, especially its spaced-out, atmospheric, psychedelic quality. The more Eastern-leaning elements in the Beatles’ version already felt naturally aligned with our own sound, so we approached it in the way we usually work—first establishing a groove, then having Charlie sing the vocal lines on top of that. Because the drone is such a central and powerful part of the track, we spent a lot of time shaping it to make sure it had enough weight and drive to carry the atmosphere and energy of the piece.

TMODM: Mystic Liverpool seems to bring together several different kinds of inheritance: the Beatles’ Liverpool, your family’s connection to the Pagoda Chinese Youth Orchestra, Chinese and Mongolian instrumentation, and Jah Wobble’s dub sensibility. Did this project feel more like revisiting familiar ground, or like discovering a new route through all of those histories?

Tian Qiyi: It was a bit of both, honestly. We didn’t grow up listening deeply to the Beatles—our dad showed us Sgt. Pepper’s Lonely Hearts Club Band when we were younger, and we liked that, but we didn’t really go further into their catalogue until later. A lot of what drew us in was learning how influential they were in terms of tape work, early sampling techniques, psychedelic approaches, and the use of Eastern modes and textures within a Western context.

So in that sense it felt refreshing to engage with that world more directly. The more Eastern-influenced tracks in particular felt oddly familiar, almost like something we’d grown up around in some indirect way. It ended up feeling both like revisiting something and discovering it properly for the first time, which made the project really enjoyable to work on.

TMODM: “Tomorrow Never Knows” has a circular, trance-like quality, and dub has its own way of bending time and space. When you were rebuilding the track with bass, drums, yangqin, erhu, and the other sounds on the album, were you thinking in terms of a song arrangement, a ritual atmosphere, or something closer to a live improvisation?

Tian Qiyi: I think it was a bit of all of them. The structure was already there in the original, so even when we were improvising or working out parts, we had something to anchor to and build from. It wasn’t a pure improvised jam, but it also wasn’t just a fixed arrangement we simply played through. It ended up being a process of trial and error, guided by both how the original sounded and how we wanted the reimagined version to feel. We had multiple angles to draw from in approaching it, which made it quite refreshing, especially as it’s very different from how we usually work on our own recorded projects.

TMODM: The liner notes say that you draw "inspiration from psychedelic pioneers like The Electric Prunes and Hendrix, while weaving in modern influences from jazz, blues, and rock." How conscious of your influences were you while you were recording? And where do you feel Svindel starts to move away from its reference points?

Svindel: While in the studio we were not very conscious of our influences, which by the way are so many. We are not your average power trio that focuses on solos, neither are we a school book blues band. I think Svindel’s sound is characterized by a lot of freedom because we’re not cemented in a specific band or year, for example trying to sound like Led Zep 1972. At the same time each song often has a pretty clear stylistic approach that probably matches some of our many influences.

TMODM: The album was recorded live over a single weekend in Stockholm, with additional elements added later. What did that fast, live recording process bring out in the music that you might not have captured in a more traditional studio approach?

Svindel: The obvious answer would be that it brought a live feel, which I think it did. But also a more uniform sound to the songs because we did not have time to experiment with mic placements or a lot of different gear in between songs. The album is so diverse as it is, so I think that this was for the better. We knew how we wanted each song to sound and had prepared effects pedal settings and sounds beforehand. These preparations surely helped to manage the tight time schedule in the studio.

TMODM: The album moves through a lot of vivid images and moods across tracks like “Jupiterbarn,” “Katten,” and the title song. Was there a central theme or story connecting the record, or is each song off on its own?

Svindel: The title song (English: "Dream Fever") kind of summarizes the theme pretty well. The obsessive power of dreams, both good and bad stuff related to them. Also the perception of mind and what is real and not is a central theme. There is a lot of blood, sweat, and tears behind the making of this album and finding our direction as a band. The lyrics and themes of the songs reflect this as well.

TMODM: What's next for you?

Svindel: We have a mini tour in Sweden this summer to promote the album with a big release party with special guests in our home town Umeå on the 21st of August! We’re also already working on our next album which is so much fun. Very soon we have a music video coming up for "Jupiterbarn" that the filmmaker Sara Kingdom crafted for us.

TMODM: Your Bandcamp bio describes The Cult of Free Love as an international collective with roots in North Wales, while the release notes also highlight the London lineup on this recording. How does that mix of place, anonymity, and shifting membership shape the way the music is written and recorded?

The Cult of Free Love: I’m the only member based in London, though I’m initially from Wales. The bassist on "Know Your Name" is also from Wales, but the singer on the new record is from Texas, but resides in Las Vegas. We have members all over the World, in Europe, North America and Asia. There’s no set way in which we write and record. Someone will have an idea and we’ll see who’s around at the time and evolve it from there.

Sometimes, members will take on different roles depending on what’s required. What unites us is a shared sense of curiosity to see where it takes us and a willingness to work with others for the greater good. We’ve been doing this for over 10 years now and it’s different every single time. The only thing that stays the same is that the music has to be great. Once we all agree on that, we let it find its way out into the world.

TMODM: You clearly treat your physical releases as sacred artifacts rather than just promotional tools. What draws the collective to these highly limited vinyl pressings in an increasingly disposable, hyper-digital music economy?

The Cult of Free Love: There’s numerous reasons why we mainly do physical media. The main reason is we like to see an end product. I love the art and design. There’s nothing like seeing something you’ve recorded manifest itself physically. You lose all that with streaming. Plus streams are for ducks.

We deliberately didn’t want to make our music disposable. Also some of the more unscrupulous streaming sites diverting funds from musicians to fund the war machine was a major factor. Most of all though, I want to bring people back to enjoying the record and the fun of hunting them down.

TMODM: What's next for The Cult of Free Love?

The Cult of Free Love: What’s next for The Cult of Free Love? We’re currently putting the finishing touches to our 3rd album. Once that’s done, we’ll be looking to get out there and play it live. We’ve deliberately recorded the new album with a view to taking it out live. So if anyone listening would like to put us on, just drop us a message.

We’ve also recorded a brand new track for a compilation coming out later in the year on the legendary Northern Star label with loads of other amazing psychedelic bands. I hope that people will hear that and our new single, like what we’re doing and come and check us out.

TMODM: Your new album Dreaming – The Peach Blossom Spring is based on Tao Yuanming’s “Peach Blossom Spring,” searching through and then saying goodbye to that mysterious place. How did this story shape the feeling or direction of the performance?

Suishou No Fune: Tao Yuanming’s “Peach Blossom Spring” was not only a mysterious place, but also a peaceful and serene world free from exploitation and war. Don’t you think this “Peach Blossom Spring” is the ideal world? I believe that, both in the past and today, people have always sought a peaceful and serene world free from exploitation and war. Naturally, I think these ideas influenced the atmosphere and direction of this performance.

TMODM: You mentioned "Kotodama" (word spirit) has been central to how you've described your music, from your connection to Joy Division to the way you approach your own lyrics. How do you think about kotodama in an instrumental improvisation, where there are no words at all? Where does the spirit live in the sound itself?

Suishou No Fune: The opening section of "Improvisation - The Peach Blossom Spring" sees the members improvising and resonating with one another, each holding their own image of the Peach Blossom Paradise in mind. As each individual’s sound resonates with the others, a sonic world is born that no single person could create on their own.

It is within this mystical sonic world that I find inspiration and am able to utter my first improvised words. The words born like tears from the atmosphere of the music played by the four of us are, for me, truly "Kotodama" (word spirit).

TMODM: This recording presents Suishou No Fune as a four-person lineup with Kurenai Pirako, Kageo, Matsueda Hideo, and Shimura Koji. What did this group of musicians bring to the live performance, and how did the energy in the room guide the music that night?

Suishou No Fune: These four musicians came together over time, drawn together by fate. Drawing inspiration from the image of "The Peach Blossom Spring", they wove together sounds in their own unique ways. The resonance of the music, the atmosphere of the venue, the audience, and we, the performers, are always united as one, creating a sense of overflowing fulfilment.

TMODM: “Burial” has a strong sense of atmosphere and momentum. What was the starting point for that song, and how did it evolve into the version on Wasteland?

Travo: We started out with the rhythm section which is pretty constant throughout the song. Once we were satisfied with it, we started to add layers of guitars full of delay. We wanted it to be intense and atmospheric. Once we finished the structure we added the vocals. The whole song was written in one day. It was very immediate, and it ended up being the most straightforward song of the record and probably of our career so far.

TMODM: The notes for Wasteland describe the album as coming out of a period of heavy touring, followed by an intense month of rehearsals where the songs took shape very quickly. Did that pressure push the band into a rawer place, or did it simply bring out something that was already there?

Travo: It definitely brought out something that was already there. We just hadn't had the time with all the touring to get together and write new material. The song structures are perhaps rawer than on the previous record (no 15mins songs on this one), but that didn't have anything to do with the pressure. It was more of a stylistic choice for this record. Also, musically and in terms of textures and production it's definitely not rawer.

TMODM: Wasteland moves away from the fantasy world of Astromorph God and into something more grounded in present-day anxieties. How did that shift in subject matter affect the sound of the album?

Travo: Before starting to write this record, we knew we wanted it to be more grounded in present-day anxieties and we wrote it with this in mind. We think there's an overall aggressiveness and sense of urgency that wasn't present in the previous records, but we still think it feels like the same band, just with a more matured songwriting and a couple of new musical elements thrown into the mix.

TMODM: You've cited the Brian Jonestown Massacre as your biggest influence since the beginning. How has your sound evolved since then, and what new inspirations shaped High on Love?

Sonic Dealer: The Brian Jonestown Massacre has definitely been one of the biggest influences on me since I started making music, and they still are.

That said, I think our sound has gradually become less about trying to recreate a specific psychedelic rock aesthetic and more about following whatever feels honest in the moment. Over the years I've listened to a wide range of music, from classic psych and garage rock to shoegaze, and all of those influences naturally find their way into the songs.

At the same time, I think life experiences have become just as important as musical influences. High on Love was written during a very significant period in my life because I became a father while I was working on the album. That experience inevitably changed my perspective and probably influenced the record more than any particular band.

The album still has the psychedelic foundation that has always been part of Sonic Dealer, but there's also a stronger sense of warmth, reflection, and emotional openness running through the songs. Looking back, I think High on Love feels less like a record shaped by specific influences and more like a snapshot of where I was in life when I wrote it.

TMODM: High on Love has some great long, hazy titles — “Down a Haze,” “Dreamdrive,” “Sea of Time,” “Ways of Mind.” Was there a particular mood or state of mind you were trying to capture across the album?

Sonic Dealer: I wasn't consciously trying to build a concept album, but looking back, there is definitely a common mood connecting the songs. Most of them were written during a period of transition and reflection, so many of the lyrics and titles revolve around ideas of time, memory, death, dreams, love, and perception.

I've always been drawn to imagery that feels slightly open-ended, allowing listeners to project their own experiences onto the songs. Titles like "Dreamdrive" or "Sea of Time" are meant to evoke a feeling rather than describe something specific.

TMODM: Sonic Dealer started in Santiago in 2014, and the lineup has stayed tightly centered around the band’s core members. How has that long-term chemistry shaped the sound and the way you write together on High on Love?

Sonic Dealer: The core of Sonic Dealer has always been my brother and me, and that shared history creates a level of trust that's difficult to replicate. We've been making and sharing music together for so long that we often understand where a song is going without having to explain too much.

In terms of songwriting, I write and record all the music myself. My brother is usually the first person I share new songs with, and the first person I discuss arrangements, ideas, or doubts with. That way of working has always felt natural to us.

Over the last couple of years, though, we've been playing a lot more live and have found a solid lineup with four close friends. Even though the songs on High on Love were written and recorded before reaching the rehearsal room, the live band has started to bring new energy, dynamics, and sounds into the music.

I think that's something that will become even more noticeable on our next record. The current lineup has developed a great chemistry on stage, and those shared experiences are already beginning to influence where Sonic Dealer is heading next.

TMODM: “The Watcher” opens Endless Skies. How did that track come together? Was it built around a central riff, a jam, or a particular mood you wanted to sustain?

Wandering Mind: We wanted to write a song that helps tap into a meditative state. Like most of our music we start with a riff and like to juice it until we feel out all the possibilities of where it can go before we land on a final structure. This was the first song we wrote together. The lyrics are based on a dream I had after reading ‘The Power of Now’ by Eckhart Tolle.

TMODM: Across Endless Skies are recurring themes of altered perception and transcendence, from “The Watcher” to the title track and “Bathe in the Light.” Were those themes intentional from the start, or did they emerge as the songs took shape?

Wandering Mind: I think the themes come from the meditative feel of the music which is intentional. Majority of the lead guitar work is improvised and I really want to tap into the magic that happens when a jam is in full swing so I think the themes are an extension of that.

TMODM: As a three-piece, how do you approach creating a sound that feels this immersive while still keeping the immediacy of a live band? Is that balance something you think about when writing and recording?

Wandering Mind: Dynamics are something we are very conscious of. Jason does an amazing job of filling in the sound with his bass playing and choice of tones. We are a collaborative unit when it comes to writing and everything is thoroughly jammed before we settle on what stays and goes in the songs so Jack, Jason and I all have a part in making sure everything sounds right.

TMODM: Yolek is rooted in the Krautrock history of your hometown of Munich, a city that gave birth to legendary, boundary-pushing bands like Amon Düül, Popol Vuh, and Embryo. When you were constructing the foundational grooves for this album, how consciously were you trying to channel that Munich avant-garde spirit versus letting your own established 'Kraut-funk' chemistry take over naturally?

Karl Hector & The Malcouns: My approach to creating is never a conscious process. Through studying the music of my hometown, as well as all other parts of the world, I have collected a library of aural impressions that come out in whatever I do without thinking about it. But I‘m very much drawn to sub-underground forms of experimentation which are locally represented by these three seminal Munich bands.

TMODM: I want to play "Space Race" from the new record. How much of that composition was captured through one-take improvisation and how much was shaped afterward in the production and mixing phase to give it that expansive, cosmic atmosphere?

Karl Hector & The Malcouns: The song was constructed in an all-improvised first-take session, all by overdubbing myself. Meaning, I didn’t know what would come out when I started. The foundation was the chord progression you hear at the very end, but then it developed into a more modal approach the more layers I added.

The atmosphere kind of manifested itself, hence adding the "Space Race" chorus at a later date. The mix was done by Jasper Geluck at Tone Boutique outside of Amsterdam, who added some of his vintage effects to enhance the cosmic perception.

TMODM: Over the years, your music has drawn from Afro‑funk, jazz, psychedelia, and Krautrock traditions all at once. How has your approach to blending those influences evolved on Yolek compared to earlier records like Sahara Swing or Unstraight Ahead?

Karl Hector & The Malcouns: I‘m a music fan first and I‘m always on the hunt for obscure sounds from all possible corners of our planet to keep me inspired.

Basically, my approach to creating is to make something I would like to hear but doesn’t exist. So as my research expands, my taste evolves, which goes straight back into my own music. So the approach is always the same, but the library I draw from is expanding constantly and influences add up rather than swap out.