- Genre: 'Punk/New Wave'
- Release Date: '19th September 2025'
Our Rating:
Everyone loves Cardiacs, or so it would seem, and their recent spate of activity has seen an effusion of enthusiasm among my virtual friends. But for some reason, despite their having been around since the late 70s and my having spent some years working in a second-hand record shop and my entire adult life immersed in all kinds of music, they’re a band I’ve long been aware of but never got around to. That they’re a bit niche, an acquired taste is much of the appeal: although their roots are punk / post-punk, their MO is theatrical, quirky, bombastic. That they also have an immense back catalogue makes them a daunting proposition for latecomers. Where do you start? I know streamers tend to hit Spotify and just take recommendations for most popular songs, but is that really the best way to approach, well, anything? Imagine coming to The Fall via that route, for example…
Founder and lead singer Tim Smith’s cardiac arrest and stroke in 2008 placed band activity on hold, while ‘LSD’ was mid-production, and his passing in 2020 placed the band in a quandary as to what to do. His brother and bandmate, Jim Smith, elected to press forward and finish the album. Enter Mike Vennart, formerly of neo-prog legends Oceansize, guitarist with Biffy Clyro, and Empire State Bastard. He seems to have settled into the role of Cardiacs vocalist pretty nicely, when all told, and he’s adroitly slotted into the almost schizophrenic nature of the band, who leap and lurch without bounds over the course of this seventeen-track double album.
It’s a high-energy tour of the weirder reaches of pop music, a cocktail of The Adverts, Mr Bungle, XTC and Frank Zappa. That Smith had laid the foundations of the album with the eclectica Kavus Torabi, who is currently a member of Gong and The Utopia Strong. Although he joined Gong post-Cardiacs, there are clear parallels in the quirky, trippy flamboyance of many of the songs on ‘LSD’.
The songs were left in various states of (in)completion when the original sessions were halted. And so it is that on ‘The May’, we do get Smith’s vocals. That they sit seamlessly alongside the Vennart-led tracks is testament to their choice of substitute, and also the production, which is full, expansive, multi-layered.
While the majority of the songs are in the three- to four-minute range, there are a handful of epics which extend beyond six minutes, and with ‘Skating’ add ‘Busty Beez’ they certainly push things further out.
It’s pitched as ‘the culmination of his life’s work’, and ‘LSD’ does present a broad spectrum sonic experience, multi-faceted, at times dizzying, sometimes completely OTT – like Meatloaf meets Rocky Horror (yes, I know he was in it, but I’m talking about Stenman Meatloaf excess), but still capable of an emotive nag, as on the minor-key ‘Spelled All Wrong’. Meanwhile, ‘The Blue And Buff’ is folksy, whimsical, as much reminiscent of early Pink Floyd as Gong or anything else.
As farewell to Tim Smith, ‘LSD’ does feel like a fitting sendoff, and here, it does seem that their work is done. Assuming this is their finale, it’s certainly pretty grand.
