Fading in like a radio searching for a frequency. Fuzz, crunch and here it settles in to a nice spot on the beach. Worship the Sun. Why not? It brings life and warmth and each new day comes with hope and regeneration. Jingle jangle.

“Voices carry through the canyon…”

Weaving in and out of itself. Guitars. Drum. Bass. Harmonies. Sun. Surf. Freedom. Listen to that twang, hear it resonate and reverberate. Is this what California sounded like in the 1960s? Inherent Vice? Is this what it sounds like today? Apparently so. Pick up the tempo now but keep swaying with the breeze. Sunblock and towels. My toes are getting tired from tapping already.

“Artifacts of ancient wisdom buried in the sand”

Allah-Las. Four lads from California with a great band name, a great sound, a great producer (Nick Waterhouse) and no great worries. Cowabunga, dude. It takes guts to work in instrumentals. I don’t care if there ain’t that much variety, it sounds great. Rock and roll. Catamaran was a great album, their debut album. That was in 2012 and two years later they have another great album. Carefree. Nothing makes you Worship the Sun more than a cold, Auckland night and nothing takes you back to those crispy summer days at the beach… burning like toast, frying like eggs… quicker than a surfer’s melodies. Harmonising. Cracked shells beneath your feet and the sand between your toes.

“Oh, I’m just wasting my time. And I’ve got nothing to hide”

There’s a market for nostalgia. Even for those who never experienced the time or the place. Recreating a concept, some idealism, a romanticised notion. The Allah-Lahs are too young to have seen the Beach Boys in their prime or to know the garage rock of the mid-60s in context. So am I. I can never know the hippie thing first hand. I cannot know peace and rhythm the way that they knew it. All I have is this second hand idea formed through films and music and the dreamy recollections of others. I’ve built this kingdom within my own brain. Buffalo Nickel is a great song.

“We had so much time to live, but don’t it go by fast/ And we had so much more to give, but that was in the past”

Sinewy guitar solos. Short but sweet. Just 5 of 14 songs top the 3 minute mark. Keep it chugging along, keep it happy keep it wistful keep it somehow melancholic too. 501-415 is Subterranean Homesick Blues as interpreted by Kelly Slater with a backbeat. Bob Dylan with a surfboard? Ooh, and Yemini Jade brings the sonic landscapes. Droney and delayed and rich and open. Inhabiting the space around your ears, around your mind. A cloud of sound; pretty and enticing. Let it swallow you alive, drink it up. Take that magic carpet ride.

“Minutes turn to hours and don’t worry about the time…”

And is that a little country beat I hear? Why, yessir it is. Some slide guitar and a life lesson or two, gotta love it. No shortage of tambourines. These are the sounds of the sunset strip but this is no cover band. This is modern and fresh. Not pastiche, but a vibrant and refreshing 21st century take on a timeless set of ideals. This is real. I can feel the UV rays soaking into my flesh as I listen.

“He told me always take some time just to wonder

About some foreign land or days of old

And admit it to yourself if you should blunder

And always try to take the higher road”