L.A. Witch are what you’d get if Prue, Piper and Phoebe from Charmed drove an old convertible into the desert, put away a bunch of mescaline and started jamming on a rocky outcrop. And while the girls claim to “not partake in any sort of witchcraft,” their debut LP is conjured from the same ephemeral magic as tumbleweeds, dead end motels and bars that no one can remember the name of. It’s a record of space, of reverb-drenched guitar and vocals, evanescing tambourines and a rhythm section that melts away with an easy confidence, letting the songs breathe as they range off in new directions.
Opener Kill My Baby Tonight sees frontwoman Sade Sanchez musing on her lover’s demise in a worldly drawl that could wake the dead, while Untitled jangles along like garage pop echoing through a decaying steel works. Conversely, Feel Alright’s ‘60s-inspired optimism ends up self-medicating and dragging the wailing guitar into a pit of despair.
It’s this ability of the band to change moods that makes L.A. Witch such a captivating prospect. For in a genre defined by a focus on the journey rather than the destination, these young practitioners rarely put a foot wrong.
