Goat's self-titled uses a lighter touch and brings the party

Following their recent folk-flavoured output (2023’s “Medicine”, and this year's soundtrack to BBC drama The Gallows Pole), the Swedish psychedelic rock collective have built upon their cult following of genre-smashing sound and fiercely enigmatic identity. With their latest eponymous sixth album, GOAT, they lighten the tone somewhat of their music and venture back into the enchanted territory that infectiously grabs the listener up for some hip-shaking.

From “One More Death” and “Goatbrain” it’s immediately apparent that the livelier, brighter tones and polyrhythms in this self-titled outing are less about incessant or pounding drums and sludgy guitars. The collective’s heavier tendencies are taking a backseat this time around. The vocals, which have always been shrouded in mystery and layered in reverb, feel even more accessible here, “Dollar Bill” is almost a psyche bluesy offering free from a weightier ritualistic atmosphere. That’s not to say that the hypnotic quality and kaleidoscopic influences aren’t aired out here, they are. Afrobeat, krautrock, psych-folk, and heavy, fuzzed-out rock all get a look in to some degree and they use the album to push the envelope even further and their musicianship.

The tail end of “Dollar Bill” is infernally hallucinatory, with repetitive riffs and swirling percussion creating a hugely trance-like experience.

One of the standout elements of GOAT is its clarity. Not in the bend of lyricism and occult-sounding references but in the mix itself. There’s space to hear the breathing. An air of relaxation and purpose about the music that feels warm and welcoming. Almost blissed out. Imagine their tribal percussion blended into a 90s club Goa feel. They may be more organic than their synthy forebears in the music’s creation but the result is typically trancy as you can envisage a dancefloor of bodies waving like corn, faces up to the sun.

“Frisco Beaver” ripples with a sense of urgency and rhythmic power. The guitar riffs are lighter, the bass groovier, the drums ping, and there’s an overall sense of finding order within the chaos. It even vamps in its second half on a Doors motif, the keyboards to “Light My Fire” particularly, and this is the mindset they’re seeking to inhabit. “The All Is One” fuses evocative country twang with the steading rock back and forth of a cowboy riding in the saddle.

Themes of transformation, transcendence, and the dissolution of ego, conjure imagery that often evokes ancient rites and forgotten gods. The final track “Ouroboros” – a familiar motif of the band – is an out-and-out floor filler. As the Amen break underpins the Chic-esque riffing, and an effervescent vocal singing, “God is in every part of you”. It channels something primal and spiritual, still using music as a vehicle to tap into deeper, subconscious realms but this time GOAT is encircling the masses rather than a niche band of curious bystanders or existing fans.

The band have always created music that feels like a ritual, a ceremony where the lines between musician and listener, past and present, blur into one. From album to album sounds have often jarred and overlapped, a sense of death and renewal has appeared throughout their catalogue to date however heavily the music has sought to impact. As we fly off into the chaotic samples and fall into a rabbit hole of maybe soporific contentment, despite the guttural screaming, this is perhaps the most hypnotic GOAT has ever sounded, once again reinventing themselves, delivering an album that’s not as musically challenging, for willing ears, but it is immensely rewarding, a perfect soundtrack for losing yourself in the wilderness of sound.