Label: Untime Records Release date: 01/03/10 Link:Myspace Poostosh, although sounding like a playground insult, means “uncultivated plot or heath” (or so says their Myspace). That might be, but let's go for certainties and here's one: Herbarium, their new album, is full of psychedelic passages, amusing song titles and some guitar licks reminiscent of the good times of post rock, all enveloped in synthesisers and general electronic tomfoolery. In a nutshell, minimalism and ambience are the two weapons of choice for Poostosh. Several songs play out like slow pieces from an unseen film. Taking into account that they hail from Russia, it could fit perfectly into an artsy film. ‘Birthnight’ could very well be taken out from a John Carpenter soundtrack. The droning synthesiser is pure eighties joy and mixed with a little squeal-like guitar makes it mesmerising. It grows out organically out of this drone, but never loses that firm grip. The experimentation does veer into a dark territory that might not be for everyone. ‘Corneal abrasion’ does sound more like a b-side that could've been left somewhere else as it does suck the life out of the whole affair. The chaotic, random experimentation can get a tad too overbearing from time to time, with the nature of the music occasionally going into muzak territory. Fair enough, it's not your usual type of music, but there's a very thin line when doing instrumental music and if you cross it, you'll find yourself lost in Café del Mar territory. Sadly, 'Leprechauns' gang' does this. Not that it's wrong to sound a little like world music. 'La Storia di un ragazzo che trovo' l'amore ma perse la testa' goes for the accordion and ambient mix, and although it nicks a bit from Agustin Lara's 'Solamente una vez', it is strangely amazing. This sort of “shouldn't be working but it does” phenomenon does occur a lot over the course of Herbarium, so heed this warning: this is a “grower” album and on a first spin, it'll probably rub you in the wrong way. Give it a chance, your ears deserve it. Photobucket