These leading (black) lights of the Austin psych-rock scene clean up their murky production for album three, and cast their dilated gaze even further back in time. There’s still plenty of Velvet Underground and Jesus and Mary Chain influence, but “Sunday Afternoon” feels like bad-trip Monkees, and the jaunty “Telephone Blues” would fit comfortably at the Cavern Club circa 1961. Sorta silly lyrics like “Rollin’ fast down I-35 / Supersonic overdrive” indicate the road that Phosphene Dream navigates: It’s all blacktop stretching through reverberating vistas — ultracool if a little predictable.
