San Fran oddballs invade our heads.
Further evidence that The Residents are really enjoying themselves at the moment, Intruders concludes a year of feverish activity. Following the sublime ‘pREServed’ editions of their early albums and the perverse, cut ‘n’ shut splurge of I Am A Resident!, the masked mentalists’ 34th studio album is as bewildering and absorbing as anything they’ve released in decades. A core theme of spectral, malevolent figures lurking on the fringes of our fragile, internal realities snakes its way through these 10 peculiar marriages of wonky art rock and cracked-mirror poetry, with so many engaging musical ideas and moments of lyrical brilliance. Each song tells its own woozily unsettling story, ranging from Voodoo Doll’s sleepy surf rock needlework saga to the anxious, philosophical churn of the darkly serene Endless And Deep. As with last year’s train crash-themed The Ghost Of Hope, this is a top-notch journey down The Residents’ rabbit hole and one that stands tall alongside early classics like Eskimo and Fingerprince. It’s all wildly evocative: as eerie show-closer Shadows ebbs away, you may find yourself checking over your shoulder for signs of your own ghoulish stalkers.