Psych Ward is not original. It’s not authentic (which is a stupid concept anyway). But it is really good. In 2001, when we were starved of rock ‘n’ roll and wetting ourselves over garage mongrels The Hives, the cool kids would have been all over this faithful slab of ‘60s psychedelia. But people have garage rock fatigue now, which is a shame, because The Urges channel the spirits of the original wave of garage rock very, very well.
Regardless, the Dublin quintet stride forward like musically deft cave men with Hammond organs, twanging guitars and shrieks, and have me battered into submission by the end of the first song (‘Read The Signs’). Jagged time-signature changes, a very un-Dublin southern American accent, and the frenetic pace conjure up an alternative universe where the UFO club is still up and running, striped trousers are de-rigeur, and LSD is a good idea.
In short, The Urges are as good as most things on the Nuggets compilations of lost ‘60s garagania; they have the edge on most of the bands that were recycling the same raw material to great acclaim five years ago, and they’re better than most of the fey, arch opportunists who decided to drop the ‘60s in order to recycle Wire instead.
It’s sad that rock ‘n’ roll is such a fickle and cyclical business, because otherwise The Urges would be everyone’s new favourite band. Unfortunately, I don’t think they’ll get their due until the next time psychedelic garage rock is fashionable... which isn’t really fair. Oh well, pass the acid, and put that record on again.