Plankton Wat – The Vanishing World

Sun Cru

For the vast majority of the recorded output under his Plankton Wat pseudonym across well over two decades, Dewey Mahood has operated as a solitary sculptor. Yet, in more recent years, guest accomplices have been drafted-in to subtly contribute sonic parts or to help technically refine the end products, most notably on 2021’s tremendous wider-screen Future Times and 2024’s mesmerically minimised Corridors.

With The Vanishing World, Mahood goes a far fuller hog, in reconfiguring the project as a pan-dimensional quartet, drawing from the energy of largely undocumented Plankton Wat live line-ups; his past ensemble work with Eternal Tapestry, Galaxy Research and others; and embracing a more kaleidoscopic studio-enabled scope.

Marshalling Mahood’s multi-instrumentalism (on guitars, synth, electric piano) with that of returning loyal lieutenant Dustin Dybvig (drums, percussion, acoustic piano, electric piano, synths, vibraphone), Future Times-finesser Victor Nash (trumpet, flugelhorn, synths) and Galaxy Research bandmate James Shaver (bass, percussion), The Vanishing World brings together older material that has been fermenting in other canonical places with newer pieces cooked-up afresh between the foursome. The result is an album that intrepidly tips a lot into a collaborative cauldron and pours out plenty of impressive distillations.

Consequently, through the higher-octane avenues we’re treated to Jimi Hendrix Experience riffage-driven grooves fused to jazzy blissfulness (“Hot Tropics”); carnivalesque psych-jam band workouts with side-nods to Altın Gün and Goat (“Tentacles” and “Iberia”); the most strung-out modes of Dinosaur Jr melded to sun-melted Carlos Santana manoeuvring (on “Forgotten Dreams”, one of two tracks to feature rarely-heard vocals from Mahood); awesome brass-topped Afrobeat funkiness (“Kaldi”); and unashamedly prog-shaped but well-measured multi-movement extravagance (“Black Satin”).

The only weak link in the rowdier tranche of gathered pieces comes with the overly strained Black Sabbathisms of “Surf King” (the other Mahood vocal-led cut), however, it’s more than made up for by a transcendental trilogy of mellower passages. Wherein we’re utterly spoilt with the gorgeous pairing of “Cryptic Fortunes” and “Synesthesia” (which both carry over the evocative ambient-minded In A Silent A Way-infused explorations of Future Times) as well as by the limber percussive snaking of “Feather River Canyon” (that enthrallingly reimagines “Faces And People” from Sam Prekop’s stellar first solo LP, with Jaki Liebezeit-laced motorik hypnotics).

Overwhelmingly benefitting from its elevating group camaraderie and liberating invention whilst still retaining Dewey Mahood’s discerning directorial oversight, The Vanishing World satisfyingly acts as one of the most accessible and infectious additions to the bountiful Plankton Wat catalogue to date. More of this sort of thing, please.

-Adrian-