Album review: My Sleeping Karma – Satya

Satya leaves you in little doubt as to where My Sleeping Karma‘s spiritual sympathies lie. The track titles reference Buddhist teachings about the layered nature of reality, and the music itself is transcendent of earthly concerns. Billed by their label as a mix of stoner and psychedelic rock, My Sleeping Karma are probably best thought of as being well to the psychedelic side of the spectrum that springs up between those two terms.

That said, My Sleeping Karma don’t evoke the acid-gobbling lunacy that the term psychedelic often describes so much as a more personal and internal exploration of possibility, and opening of Aldous Huxley’s doors of perception that could just as easily come from mental discipline as controlled chemicals. That’s arguably a posh way of saying that Satya is more meditative than mentalist, but the comparison stands whichever way you express it.

My Sleeping Karma‘s sound is a rich and swirling ocean of subtle keyboard pads, clean and rounded bass tones and effect-drenched guitar. The focal points are the echoing melodic riffs, simple and hypnotic, often pedalling on an open string to add extra root notes to the drones and thrumming textures of the keys. Beneath it all the drums lope and roll along, always sounding as if they’re about to fall behind the beat but never actually doing so.

Indeed, Satya is very reminiscent of the mellow parts of Tool’s more recent material, those chiming clean guitar notes reverberating in the space between solar systems. Unlike Tool, however, this isn’t math-metal rocket-science; My Sleeping Karma settle down into a groove and just let it spiral on outwards, totally lost in their own atmosphere. Their real skill is manifest in the dynamics; simple the song components may be, but the structures flow gently and inevitably from epic power to delicate breaths and back again.

“Svaatanya” features guest vocals from one Katrin Weissler which, while in keeping with the overall vibe, feel a little unnecessary; Satya‘s best feature is its otherworldliness, and even the soaring yet ethereal tones of Wiessler’s voice bring the listener back to Earth. The song ends with samples from news coverage of the recent resurgence of conflict in occupied Tibet, and we’re into “Brahmacharya”, easily the heaviest of the songs on Satya when it lets loose with quasi-Kyuss chords and splashing cymbals, though balanced by the mellow and spacious soundscapes that are My Sleeping Karma‘s signature sound.

Satya is stoner rock without the booze and bombast, a smoky daydream of interstellar travel by the power of the mind, or perhaps (more appropriately) a journey into inner space. It’s ideal listening for those times when there are things you need to be getting on with, but also for the end of a day when you’ve no longer got the stomach for the frantic pace and squalling power of traditional rock sonics. So twist up a strong one, settle into the sofa, then close your eyes and let My Sleeping Karma lift you off the karmic wheel for a little while.