L.A. Witch emerge from the shadows with DOGGOD's dark delight

Forming in 2011, the trio’s two previous albums saw them picking and mixing from a wide range of influences, mastering the sludginess of Sabbath while injecting the raw energy of classic punk/post-punk masters The Wipers. In fact Wipers’ frontman Greg Sage and his wildly underrated guitar slinging genius could be key in understanding L.A. Witch. Both bands are stripped down to a ‘nowhere to hide’ trio format where thrilling guitar runs snake in and out of tracks pinned down by a killer rhythm section.

Ellie English (drums), Irita Pai (bass) and Sade Sanchez (vocals/guitar) have created an entity that could have comfortably joined the legendary Slash Records roster back in the 80s and 90s, but one that steers towards the timeless rather than the slavishly retro. In full flight L.A. Witch are far too viscerally ‘now’ to fall into that trap.

Recorded in Paris, DOGGOD is a study in the extremes of love, loyalty and obsession. Tense bass and sinister synths colour the driving opener, “Icicle”. It’s an early indicator that L.A. Witch are prepared to mess with the formula – exactly what you want to hear when a band reaches their third album. When that bass kicks in and the soundscape sharpens you can feel your pulse quicken with anticipation.

“The Lines” is a thrilling tumble of anxiety and tension. Shards of Cure-like guitar atmospherics appear for a second then are swept away by the unforgiving forward motion of bass and drums. There’s no waste or indulgence, a strength that flows through DOGGOD resulting in a record of lean intensity. Just check the majestic menace of the title track for an L.A. Witch masterclass – its eerie undertow resting on a sliver of synth and the worrying declaration, “You like me best when I’m in distress.”

Just as ghostly, but strikingly different, the hypnotic “Lost at Sea” shows the band confidently relying on a softly strummed electric guitar, minimal percussion, a heat haze of electronics and the aching vulnerability of Sanchez’s voice.

This is a post-punk/desert rock hybrid that satisfies in ways other travellers in the crowded modern post-punk melange can only dream of. More importantly here we have musicians no longer in thrall to their influences. It’s a high compliment indeed to describe a band as The Gun Club gone motorik, but DOGGOD makes a convincing case for it. L.A. Witch have compelling syncopation down to a fine art, with a sound that involves the kind of inter-band sonic telepathy developed via endless hours in dusty rehearsal rooms and honed via relentless gigging.

As any notion of the third album blues melts away, two things are crystal clear: L.A. Witch are the real deal and DOGGOD is a dark delight to savour.