The Ballarat trio have taken the clichéd concept of penning an album in a woodland cabin and morphed it into taking mushrooms in a dilapidated 3350 bedroom and losing themselves in hallucinatory bliss while the four-track runs wild. In The Sun is a muddled lo-fi jam that teleports you to Kata Tjuta and injects a double dose of mescaline along the way. Visceral, dreamy and effortlessly ethereal.
