Elixir Vitae, the Stinky Records debut by the Low Flying Owls, has an ideal dialectical relationship to two wonderful places and sounds: Californian psychedelia and British gloominess. The band effortlessly melds The Bends-era guitars with SoCal swagger to forge a sound that is thought-provoking and energetic.

The album kicks off with "Glad to Be Alive," which itself kicks off with what sounds like a nod to Cliff Burton. The song picks up a P.J. Harvey drive as lead singer Jared Southard builds almost to a screech: "Where has my faith gone/Lost in the wind/So glad to be alive." I'm a sucker for rock instrumentals, and these guys pull one off ("Babies Made") that works great with low lighting and brandy. Or flashlights and Ecstasy. One of the two. "Swingin' Sam" has the same feel as "Babies" and showcases the band's main melancholic sounds, but also has a Jefferson Airplane-approved breakdown and a fun main guitar riff. Even though it's hard to use the word "fun" to describe the Low Flying Owls, they have riffs reminiscent of Elvis Costello and the Attractions or even Green Day. I should warn you though; any relationship to pop, living or dead, is purely coincidental. Especially LFO.

Overall, the Owls are as heavy, dark and thick as a good porter. Their main themes of fear, escapism and disquiet coupled with fuzz-laden production give this whole album a self-absorbed brooding feel. Warm, but not too inviting. Not that this is new or shocking, but the Owls pull it off in a snappy fashion with the right balance of energy and lethargy.

For fans of Travis and The Verve that like the occasional Buzzsaw Lite riff, the Low Flying Owls have pulled off a deft and crafty album. Give them a listen here.

I also got to check these guys out at Ralph's Corner Bar in Moorhead, Minn., about a week ago. I have to admit that they don't have the same dynamic punch live. Most of the trippiness was lost in a midlevel wash presumably the fault of the sound guy. Or a faulty sound check. As I sipped my third Summit IPA, I was mostly impressed by drummer Sam Coe's tom work and the shimmying of bassist Mike Bruce, who also accepts the prize for Scariest Looking Low Flying Owl. But he's a nice scary.

Going back and listening to their album, I'm also impressed with the amount of the mood from their album that they were able to transplant into a 45-minute set. Their song choices showed their breadth well, even if the keys and melody guitar were criminally low in the mix. Luckily, I was close enough to hear off of the monitors. They were a bit standoffish on stage and had a bit of a brush-off vibe going, but that's to be expected. These guys aren't a jam band or a dance band. They're busting out complex emotions and a matured sense of their place in the scheme of music. They're a grownup band, kids.

I also got the chance to talk for a few minutes with Coe. I talked to him about their current tour and the experience of being in rural Minnesota. Nice chap, although a bit moody. To be expected, I guess. They're a moody band.
At least I know they're being honest.