Back catalogue: Psych/Garage Rock

Review: 'The Essential Radio Birdman' compiles the most integral, anthemic and hard hitting of the Sydney proto-punk n' roll heroes' definitive first three albums (long out of print and costly to accumulate), and delivers them on newly pressed wax.

Underrated and ahead of their time, the writing partnership of Michigan born guitarist Deniz Tek and vocalist Rob Younger, led to a spree of surf rock leaning cynical, witty barrages that not only still stand the test of time, but deserve a major reappraisal with regards to the extent of their influence.

Review: It could not get much more late-1960s into early-1970s folk rock if it tried. Band name: Rainbird. Album title: Maiden Flight. General vibe: somewhere between a psychedelic ultraworld, late night blues basement and trip to a remote island to join an off-grid community. Painting quite a vivid picture there, admittedly, this 1971 rarity proves exactly why contemporary musicians can try to emulate this era but will never truly recreate it. Simply put, it's impossible to commit in the same way today. Rant and questionable point aside, Rainbird's uncovered gem is an epic masterpiece in no uncertain terms. From the wistful croonerdom of 'Stormdance (Part 1)' and its Wurlitzer powered chaotic seizure follow up l ('Stormdance (Part 2)'), to the lead guitar solo mastery of 'Man On the Mountain' and the quiet, reflective journeyman stuff on 'Sailboat', it manages to include every totem of this scene, without sounding cliched.

Review: Much as it may surprise some, this isn't a new and wryly political band putting the climate crisis front and centre. Instead, Relatively Clean Rivers are a relatively poorly remembered band in the annals of mid-20th Century tunes, although digging a little deeper makes you realise just how much mythology and mystery surrounds this, the one album they gave to the world.

Headed up by Phil Pearlman, of The Beat of The Earth and The Electronic Hole fame, RCR takes you on a peyote-laced trip into the Californian desert to explore more experimental, dream-like ends of 1960s folk rock 'n' roll. Vivid enough to ensure you can pretty much smell the hemp, it's crucial to note this isn't just another one of those stoned hippie albums. The quality of what's on this (originally privately released) record is so good it went on to inspire the likes of Wilco.

Review: Wooden Shjips and Moon Duo vocalist-guitarist Ripley Johnson seems like the kind of guy who's never going to get boring. Having seduced pretty much everyone in earshot with a unique brand of psychedelic country music, earning the kind of cult following that gets you booked for the equally cult, sorely-missed, and utterly legendary All Tomorrow's Parties festival (RIP), he's continued to explore the possibilities and prospects of that sound.

Garden Party is the fourth LP under his Rose City Band project, and is gorgeous and alluring as ever. Apparently Johnson was inspired by long summer days and nights spent on verandas kicking back and enjoying balmy temperatures, and that feeling emanates from the tracks here. A beautiful collection of crooning guitars within lackadaisical arrangements, capable of transporting you to warmer, slower places.

Review: Rose City Band is a solo project of Ripley Johnson, who is known for his work in Wooden Shjips and Moon Duo. 'Garden Party' is the fourth album of the project. Thematically, it deals with the summer months and what Johnson has taken to calling 'porch music', two words which conjure a wealth of relaxing mental images. From 'Chasing Rainbows' to 'El Rio', Johnson creates lush, rich psychedelic rock soundscapes with a country influence, sure to excite road-trippers just as much as they are to sate veranda-loungers alike.

Review: If you're looking for online evidence that Rust even existed then prepare for at least three Google searches. These guys aren't the rock band from Helsinki, Finland, that formed in 2001. Nor are they the mid-1980s classic rock covers outfit. The fact those other two groups used the same name speaks volumes about how little known this Rust are, which is criminal when you start getting to grips with this record.

British psychedelic rock at its finest, Come With Me was originally recorded back in 1969, and those in the know regard it as something of a lost mini-classic. From the off, it feels like you're spiralling down into a wormhole, surrounded by the colour of sound. From thereon in, we launch into the kind of cacophonous, blues-tinged guitar solo-filled, rhythmically infectious stuff that really should have earned this lot a chapter in the pantheons.