Following his album Tales From the Black Stump, Dark Energy throws us into far murkier waters. Dark energy stares into the storm of humanity’s unraveling. It’s both global and personal, angry and tender, dark and weirdly hopeful (we think?). In a phrase: psychedelic power pop with a pulse!

We start with “Stick to the Script,” and Coolonaut lets us know this ride won’t be neither smooth nor sweet. This isn’t retro for nostalgia’s sake, this is vintage gear channeling a very now sense of unease. The fuzzed guitars, warbly synths, and punchy drums form a gritty, analog wall of sound that feels deeply human, with imperfections baked in like fingerprints on vinyl!

Lyrically, Coolonaut writes like a doctor diagnosing the human condition. No surprise, when he’s not recording, he’s literally a doctor! That dual perspective, observer and healer, runs through the album. “Hey Doc!” sounds deceptively upbeat, but underneath the cheery hooks is a patient pleading for help: “Hey doc, can you help me now? I feel such pain, I know it’s not my brain.” The tension between vibe and message is surgical!

Standouts like “Babes in Arms,” “Innocent Until,” and “Killer in a Suit” cut closer to the bone. These aren’t just protest songs, they’re psychological snapshots of a world losing grip on decency, especially with everything that is currently happening in a multiple of regions, especially the Middle East. “Child of the Crescent Moon” broadens the scope further, with raw, lyrical honesty that is far away from being cliché.

Importantly, none of this is polished in the studio sheen sense. There’s no click track, no autotune, no post-production airbrushing. You hear the room. You hear the moment. That’s intentional. Coolonaut’s analogue ethos is as philosophical as it is sonic,capturing not just what was played, but how it felt.

Ultimately, Dark Energy isn’t here to comfort you. It’s here to see you. It’s an album that stares at the state of things, personal and political, distant and domestic; and dares to respond with grit, grace, and raw creativity. In a world numbed by overproduction and algorithmic gloss, Coolonaut reminds us that there’s power in being unapologetically human.

So yeah, Darkness is Psychedelia. And COOLONAUT is proof!

The cheekily named Coolonaut is Shakeel, a singer and songwriter originally from Scotland, now based in the rural Australian town of Coolah. Referring to himself as a one-man creative tornado, Coolonaut is the sole proprietor of all sounds featured on the album’s 12 songs. The music ranges in tempo and direction quite a lot, from straightforward psych-rockers to hazy and drunken ballads, while maintaining a consistent flair of fuzzy grittiness to the guitars and a curious sense of mystery and adventure to the often modal chord sequences and melodies, resulting is a cohesive and fulfilling listen that’s gripping from start to finish. 

It becomes clear from the first bars of the starter ‘Fish Eye Lens’ that Coolonaut will have no difficulty keeping my attention on the music’s textured atmospheres, the thumping riffs and addictive overdriven tones, or the deliciously distant production that covers the music with an unmistakable psychedelic sheen. ‘Monochrome World’ is one of the songs on which Shakeel displays his affinity toward the classical sounds of rock and roll, with a distinctively twangy rhythm guitar part, a pronounced chord progression, and peppy, overdubbed vocals, While ‘Indian Boy’ showcases him at his most psychedelically bountiful. With whimsical synths, the Mixolydian mode’s trademark adventurous sound, a snaky bass part, witty lyrics, and a fantastic songwriting affair, it is easily one of the album’s more outstanding songs.

Coolonaut does not do cut and paste on his music either, with his songs being intricately structured and tightly composed, making for entertaining listens, with the jangling ‘The Jacket’ being a prime example of his ability to form simplistic musical ideas into holistic and immersive listens. Nor is he complicit in that regarding the songs in their entirety, with the songs being, for the most part, vividly different. ‘Is That A Vespa’ is a momentous instrumental with a beastly bass part and shimmering guitar performance, boasting a psychedelic sound akin to The Black Angels, vastly different to the Aloa Input psychedelia found on the aforementioned ’Indian Boy’. ‘The Man Who Knows It All’ and ‘Human Dispensing Machine’ are two late albums that carry their Beatles influence proudly on their sleeves. Jangly and bustling guitars, buoyant bass lines, and memorable melodies walk hand in hand with the hazy production to provide a truly distinctive listen and feel, and with their short runtimes, the condensed goodness is lighter to digest and easier to love.

Coolonaut’s Shakeel is working overtime on Tales From The Black Stump, a truly fascinating debut. A talented artist with a sound he’s deeply passionate about, allowing him to give one tune after the other without faltering or missing a cue, and while the songs on the album will subjectively vary from one listener to another in their value, there will be no denying that Coolonaut has artfully crafted and effortlessly maintained a crisply uniform aura of pure vintage psychedelia all the way throughout the album.