Psychedelic Porn Crumpets at the Sinclair, 10/18/22

Psychedelic Porn Crumpets at the Sinclair, 10/18

Jake Rubenstein gives us the lowdown on Psychedelic Porn Crumpets’ recent show at the Sinclair.

“Thank you ladies and gentlemen, we are Tame Impala,” frontman Jack McEwan muses after his band’s cavalcade of sound comes to a screeching halt. The ear-splitting energy of each song might be the second most notable feature of Psychedelic Porn Crumpets – the first, of course, being their name. 

Hailing from Perth, Australia – yes, like Tame Impala – the psych-rockers have been going strong since 2014, building up a following for their blissfully messy sound and spry live shows. The Crumpets embarked on a rescheduled North American tour this Fall traveling across the country, this time making a stop at the cozy Sinclair in Harvard Square. You could tell they were still riding the high of their April 2022 release Night Gnomes, which McEwan described as “a summary of everything [Psychedelic Porn Crumpets had] previously released.” 

Following the catatonic psychedelia of opener Acid Dad, the lights dimmed and the spotlight fixed on a small plastic turtle perched atop a wooden stool with a microphone pointed at it. The dulcet tones of Andrea Bocelli’s “Con Te Partiro” flooded the stage as the band emerged from behind the singing toy turtle. Following a delay-soaked chirp from the lead singer, the Crumpets launched into opener “Tally-Ho.” a perfect tonesetter for the kaleidoscopic set to come. Drummer Danny Caddy provided motorik beats while bassist Wayan Billondana chugged along. McEwan’s lyrics told of finding God in grocery store produce and having his skull replaced with cement. The band wasn’t shy opening up each song into extended jams that waxed and waned at the whim of each player. The setlist dutifully covered their discography, including Night Gnomes single “Lava Lamp Pisco” and culminated in fan favorite “Cornflake.” 

The crowd gave back all the energy put out by the Crumpets. I assumed an armadillo stance near the front rail to protect my camera as the audience swirled in a pit of chilled-out aggression. The group’s cult following was evident as they had the Sinclair shouting along the lyrics for the entire 90-minutes of their tight, grungy psych set. From among the crowd, I heard murmurs ranging from “these guys can really play!” (said by a forty-something year old in an ironic baseball cap) to “MY FACE JUST MELTED OFF” (screamed by a bearded Boston-area college student who smelled of dispensary weed and Dunkin’). 

Amidst a crowded field of Australian psych contemporaries, Psychedelic Porn Crumpets spares the heady trappings of the genre and gets right into the action. Their barnburning live shows do justice to their unique, dense studio sound and is all held together by their trademark sense of humor. They know they’re just a bunch of long-haired Aussies banging their heads on stages around the world, but damn if they don’t do it well…