From St. Marcello Hill, along the Vomano Valley in Italy, Turbomatt arrives at full steam.Created around 2009 by “Turbo” Mark (drums), “Turbo” Fra (bass), “Turbo” Ex (guitar) in Fano Adriano, they produce wonderful and cinematic desert rock instrumentals inspired by the legendary Yawning Man, Unida, Ché and Fatso Jetson.Only Mountains Are Real, their fourth LP, was recorded last October at "La Maison Electrique" by Davide Grotta and self-released by the band yesterday. Comprised of 8 tracks clocking in just under the 50 minutes mark, it´s an welcoming heat wave of psych rock during this last cold days of Winter.As the wind starts to pick up, we are immediately wandering through desert soundscapes with a tight rhythmic section and a sassy guitar, oscillating between slow and steady contemplative tunes to fast and loose drifty tracks as they climb up and down the mountains.The trio radiates while thick bass lines and the sparkly drums glow, locked in hypnotic kraut grooves, as arid riffs and warm fuzzy licks lead the way and set the mood. Stellar guitar work shifting between spacey and garage stages like if we were stargazing with Gary Arce or speeding in a mustang with Mario Lalli behind the wheel... That whole classic Palm Desert vibe that so many fail miserably to emulate, Turbomatt refreshingly succeeds!A fantastic record, overall, very well capable of establishing the band in this overpopulated scene... they certainly have my attention from now on!

Turbomatt desertic rock releases the mind. It relaxes muscles. It dissolves tension. It is a natural medicine, probably composed by some soft drug. It owns the lazy gait, the serene spirit and the slight perceptive slowdown of whom has just smoked.In Only Mountains are Real the band from Abruzzo dedicates itself to instrumental songs bare of every sort of redundancy, so much essential to sound lo-fi. It seems to see J Mascis at the beginning of his career (when his band was still called Dinosaur, without Jr.) playing a jam with Yawning Man in the Campo Imperatore boundless plateau. If at times songs can lack of a bit of fluidity, yet it is undeniable the fascination of the atmospheres - vaguely psychedelic and dusty.There is the sense of freedom of the wild horses in the noisy and undulant stoner rock of Sidecar, Kerosene and the title track. As there is the peace of sunsets in sight of Gran Sasso in Kublai Khan. Or the fire burning in the night in the hypnotic and shamanic Nosferatu. An album to be smoked.