It’s 9.3 miles to the Limelight Belfast – it’s a Friday night, The Dandy Warhols are playing, the sun is shining… and we’re wearing sunglasses. (sic)

It’s funny how the first song you hear by a band, tethers you to them forever, eternity’s undeniable, umbilical c(h)ord…

In this particular instance it was 1998, ‘…The Dandy Warhols Come Down‘, and the track was ‘Boys Better’ – a gorgeous, acid-drenched, Neal Young-esque, hook-laden, up-beat, rendering of underground americana. It hit the spot enough for me to buy the album, and go see them that year at one of my regular haunts back then, The Garage in Glasgow.

Just the other week, I wrote a review for the video release, of the lead track, ‘existence is futile‘, from this latest EP by Tuath.

What I particularly love about Tuath, is that you literally don’t know what they’re going to come up with next. Their’s is not the predictable, regurgitation by numbers, of easy-street. Their’s is the, to be applauded, path far less travelled. A path littered with obstacles, hairpin bends, steep inclines and precipitous drop-offs, a path refreshingly devoid of pretentiousness.

I was delighted, back in March, to have the opportunity to play Stupid Cosmonaut‘s debut single, ‘Salvia‘ on my ‘chromaticism’s revolutions on the radio‘ podcast.

“Stupid Cosmonaut are a Manchester-based pseudonymous musical entity consisting of Sam Read and Steven McNamara amongst others, experimenting with electronic, ambient and psychedelic soundscapes.”

My second pilgrimage to Distorted Perspectives, took place on the May Bank Holiday weekend.

As with most things in life, having been there before and knowing the lie of the land, made the experience all the more enjoyable – that sure and certain knowledge of last year’s event, firmly tucked into the memory bank, coupled with idyllic Donegal weather, made this another one to remember.

It helped also, that my ‘revolutions on the radio‘ podcast of a few weeks back, had focussed on the Regional Cultural Centre‘s annual event – an hour and thirty nine minutes of re-immersion, courtesy of a playlist and chat with Event Organiser Jeremy Howard, in all that this Festival has become synonymous with.

Tuath, those psychedelic purveyors of, “Free sunshine acid, new love and terror cult, magic moogle’s vintage psycho arrangement”, return with a valorous video visitation, a verdant vestige of viscous verbiage, if you will…