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“Faced with a deluge of groove based psych, many listeners failed to notice Psychic Ills peculiar idiosyncrasy, and they got subsumed. Now that all is quiet, or quieter, on the kaleidoscopic rock front, it's easier to hear the radical economy that sets them apart. While most freaked-out churners give in to the temptation to throw everything into the cauldron and boil, Psychic Ills cherry-pick their ingredients and slow roast till golden... a mirror in a desert gently turning in the breeze.”
“Everything about this record is so right-on that I'm getting a contact high just telling you about it. Psychic Ills are a long-running NYC band dedicated to the unspooled life, how the horizon just keeps going to infinity, and they transmute and transmit this notion into note-perfect narcoticized jams. Hazed Dream is the record that old-school Ills fans have been waiting for: three- and four-minute slices of spare, deep-psych grooves, tightly written and arranged toward the band's strengths -- namely, frontman Tres Warren's assuringly blissed vocals, and the way his simple yet intricate guitar lines amble through the astral hills and shadowy woods spun into existence by the rhythm section of Elizabeth Hart (bass) and Brian Tamborello. And this mellow magic holds form for the entirety of Hazed Dream. Sure, we could single out tunes like "Mind Daze", "That's Alright" and "Sungaze" as being especially effective, but there's not a downer moment to be found on this low-light classic.”
“Most people know these NYC transplants from their '06 proper debut LP Dins, a crashing storm of noise and pop that bent shoegazer techniques through a perma-stoned, cult-like filter that could burn holes through apartment walls. Following that came an extended period of self-discovery through abstraction. Hazed Dream marks a return to form, at least one of a band that's trying to write pop songs in the three-to-four minute range with some degree of success. All of the excess is burned off here like dust in votive candles strewn across the hardwood floor. Energy levels never rise above a browned-out choogle, but that's alright, the Ills finding a niche for themselves between Opal's Happy Nightmare Baby, Spacemen 3 demos, and the sunrise that greets us each morning. This is a supremely burnt, incredibly cool album based on repetitive concepts, blues riffage, and dark sunglasses, content to purr along while the world races past. It'll make the mood juuuuuuust right wherever you are.”