On their new EP, The Hereticks deliver a moody little masterpiece. From the first strums of "I Only Pretend" to its reprise three tracks later, I was completely taken with this release. Warm guitars, swirling organs, and shakers populate the opening minutes, as well as enough references to dying stars, gravity, and evolution to firmly place them in terrain The Flaming Lips explored back when they actually rocked. In fact, the vocals even have that same charming quality as Wayne Coyne, anxiously straining for notes that might just be a hair out of reach. And I mean that in the most affectionate way possible.
Where the two bookend songs mine their spacy side, The Hereticks kick out the jams in the middle. In particular, "Promised Land" packs a wallop. It boasts a chorus worthy of The Strokes and a verse so smooth, it wouldn’t surprise me if these guys listened to Hall and Oates on the sly. In "Girl", the question is posed: “I’ve been paroled, now where the fuck’s my trial?” which is followed by a rip-roaringly fun guitar solo, the likes of which I don’t hear much anymore.
With only four songs, the EP feels brief. I think that has to do with how effortlessly it all comes together, the way the tracks bleed from one into the next. It feels assured and effortless, which means it had to be hard as hell to accomplish. I can’t wait to see these guys live. But most of all, I can’t wait until they do a full length. --Written by Josh Denslow