Join the Ripship ride

Callum Lincoln (guitar, synth, vocals) and Rae McLean (drums, vocals) are Ripship. Photo: supplied

Expect full-bodied, danceable grooves and eccentric storytelling on the new album from Pōneke sci-fi psych-rock duo Ripship. Callum Lincoln (guitar, synth, vocals) and Rae McLean (drums, vocals) have created a beautifully strange and diverse offering with their second full-length album Crawling Chorus. And they have delivered it with casual confidence that their audience will pick up whatever weirdness they’re putting down.

Although the songs on Crawling Chorus move between hypnotic simplicity, heavy headbangers and pop silliness — sometimes within the same song — the album is glued together by recurring sci-fi motifs. These occur both lyrically and in Ripship’s evident love of retro space-age synth tones. The single New Mexico — referencing the famous UFO incident of Roswell, New Mexico — features rhythmic krautrock-style instrumentation and chanted vocals which combine to give off strong "cult" vibes.

"I know that they come in peace — at least it’s what I wanna believe," the band chant earnestly on top of driving drums and angular shafts of sound. But Ripship don’t take themselves too seriously by any means, and most of their songs have at least a dash of silliness. On the track Caribou — a song heavy on the playful sci-fi effects and reminiscent of The Flaming Lips — the chorus goes "I know you like funny pictures of caribou, here’s one hundred thousand funny pictures of caribou." Read between the lines and it becomes apparent the song is about a search engine gone rampant in its efforts to feed the user what they want. The confidence with which this nonsense is delivered makes me think Ripship must have the musical chops to churn out 100,000 songs to the same high standard as those on Crawling Chorus. They seem to be telling us, "There’s plenty more where that came from".

We encounter more oddities on the tongue-in-cheek Who Likes Magic? The song is constructed using audio samples from a Jehovah’s Witness propaganda cartoon and features a little boy who shows his mother his new toy wizard. She tells him, "Magic is bad. Who likes magic?", and the song answers from the depths — "Satan, Satan, Satan, Satan ... " This refrain continues unabated as the instrumentation gets heavy, rhythmic, and undeniably danceable; the kind of music Satan would like perhaps? Ripship even manage to "make strange" a song about going to see a concert. In Ever Dream this Band? the song’s narrator dreams nightly about the same mysterious band and tries to purge himself of the dream by going to their show. "It’s a song about a dream, inside a dream about a band, who sing a song about a song, inside a dream that someone had," sings the mind-bending chorus. Laconic in a ’90s college rock way, Ever Dream this Band? is bathed in a summertime glow of dancing arpeggios. The chorus is a joyful yet unhinged refrain of "hey ya da da, hey ya da da", which is also, coincidentally, what the fictional band in the song are singing. It’s all very recursive and hurts one’s head to think about it too hard.

My recommendation is not to. Ripship are fun. This is music to dance to, sing along to, and to laugh alongside; because thankfully the listener is always in on the joke. Even a minute and a half from the end of the album, Ripship can’t pass up the opportunity for one last wink as they break fourth wall and address us. The Ending begins as a vocoder duet between Lincoln and Mclean. It’s almost a ballad, accompanied by a sparce and simple beat, and it’s a chance to breathe after the high energy of the rest of the album. But then the lyrics address the listeners, asking "Did the ending let you down?" Are they wondering if we’re disappointed the album isn’t going out with a bang? But before there is time to formulate a response, The Ending becomes startlingly surging and heavy, with sludgy guitar and psych-rock drums; a final surprise from Ripship.

At times Ripship’s sci-fi leanings, their use of chanting, and the occasional syncopated play-offs between vocals and drums, put me in mind of fellow Pōneke extraterrestrials, Orchestra of Spheres. At times the joyous and messy sound walls, and the upbeat sing-along choruses, reminded me of 2000’s indie darlings The Polyphonic Spree. But Ripship are very much driving their own spaceship and Ōtepoti audiences are lucky enough to have the chance to catch a ride.

Ripship will be playing at The Crown Hotel on February 28, supported by Dunedin locals Dale Kerrigan and Bunchy’s Big Score. Don’t forget your space helmet.