Mary Vision

There in the cerebral fog, strings quiver in a bath of reverb (spiritual in it’s existence).  Organ drones tasteful blankets, protection from the dusty road, here the vision becomes more definable.

Main-man, Alex Fippinger, proclaims: “I’m looking for the right company.” He has found such with his group’s debut album, ‘Highway’ on Taxi Gauche Records. Not so much a nod to past or revival psychedelia, but a continuation of the genre, its nuances and vibrations. A heartfelt artist, with a spike in the same vein of his strongest influences (listeners of Spacemen and Brian Jonestown Massacre, take notice.) It is Mary Vision’s absorbance of New York City, and the singer’s Mississippi River roots. Fippinger’s voice conjures John Hooker dancing in spasms with Alan Vega pouring the drinks in the dark. MV is a sound to spin in your smoky den as much as it should be experienced live, holding you sustained in sonic jelly.

For in Fatima, Portugal, 1917, reports found the Virgin Mary, manifesting six times on the thirteenth of six consecutive months, baring fortunes of the future.  Now, clarity has projected sound waves, has cracked transistor harmonies flavoring orchids of throbbing bass, pulsating drums, dream-like guitars, “paradigm shifts flipped on it’s head”.
The truth is in grooves. Earth is rotating. Close your eyes and float away. You’re almost there. Brought on by, Mary Vision – dig in.

Ryan Drag, Brooklyn NY

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