Around the turn of the millennium, the oddly named Drool Brothers delivered a self-titled debut LP that shared a world of different rock and funk influences to create an interesting listen. ‘Fullerton’ somehow managed to fuse baggy-centric rhythms, garage rock guitars, psychedelic elements and semi-spoken vocals without sounding too messy; ‘Happiness Fair’ filled a couple of minutes with heavily treated voices and dance-y beats; ‘Can’t Lick It’ threw a world of fuzz guitar over an upbeat groove and peppered with it with a world of surf tinged melodies and a keyboard sound that felt as if it paid homage to ‘Schoolhouse Rocks’; ‘Blue Velvet Pig Mask’ sounded like a Funkadelic tribute, by way of a rock band deep into experimentation. Better yet, the album’s stand out, the effortlessly cool ‘Lay With It’, worked keys and horns into a soul groove that paid homage to Jr. Walker & The All Stars. There might be many words to sum up such a record, but “eclectic” fit the bill better than most, and while it didn’t always sound like the creative endeavours of the same band, somehow, the Brothers managed to make it all work.

Applying a similar level of eclecticism over the next quarter of a century, Drool Brothers would sporadically release new material that was very much aimed at a cult audience. 2025’s ‘Psychology’ is, by direct comparison to the debut at least, a little more focused, but at the album’s best, the LA based combo still manage to serve up some fine alternative melodies.

One of the album’s stand out cuts, ‘Snacks and Treats’ opens with a chorale of female voices delivering a wordless harmony before dropping into a melody that’s so shamelessly 60s, it borders on the irresistable. Against a wall of chiming guitars and bouncing basslines borrowing from the more pop-centric end of garage rock, a joyous vocal warns of the dangers of eating too many sweets, rhyming “gonna get fat” with “spoiled brat” in a way that knows it’s all so frivolous. For those more into musical flourishes than lyrics that may border on the quasi-novelty, a brilliantly applied fuzz guitar occasionally punches through the strident rhythm, and a very retro keyboard solo – capturing the tones of Question Mark & The Mysterians – stokes up the late 60s vibes perfectly. Clearly inspired by the Augustus Gloop song from 1971’s classic ‘Willy Wonka & The Chocolate Factory’, this is a track that comes dripping with a strange nostalgia, even from first play.

Almost as cool, ‘The Song That Nobody Heard’ applies a Jellyfish-like rumpty tumpty rhythm to a tone and lyric that sounds a little more like something from deep within The Supernaturals’ catalogue to share some superb power pop. In keeping with some of the Brothers’ garage rock traits, a harder edged, slightly fuzzy guitar offsets the retro pop very effectively, but it’s ultimately a simple hook that wins out in the end. A repetition of the title fits rather nicely with the infectiously buoyant rhythm, showing off the band’s gift for a great hook rather well, but without feeling the need to be too smart. For power pop aficionados everywhere, it’s a track that’s likely to be an instant hit.

Taking a slightly rockier approach, ‘Fame Whore’ makes great use of a tried and tested 60s melody – the kind of thing you might hear from Matthew Sweet in full retro mode, or as part of the Austin Powers band Ming Tea – and couples a fuzzed up rhythm with a strong crying lead. The arrangement may be fairly by numbers, but the band deliver the tune with great enthusiasm, and clearly understand the punchier elements come with a lot of mileage left in them. This number really comes into its own, though, when more of a popsike middle eight beefs up the 1967 influences, and when a very retro keyboard solo takes centre stage. The band’s previous love of funk underscores the interesting ‘Kaleidoscope’ when pumping bass notes push against more of an angular rhythm, and the garage rock guitars are offset by strange parping sounds that feel a little unnatural. Unlike the much earlier ‘Lay With It’, though, this track quickly leans into the band’s more psychedelic interests with a carny themed chorus where vocals are drowned in phased effects and the core melodies feel like they’ve been culled from a deep cut from 1969. Looking at it from a slightly more contemporary angle, listeners might even hear traces of ‘Yoshimi’ era Flaming Lips and peak Polyphonic Spree colouring a performance that takes a little longer to appreciate.

In a change of mood, ‘Freak Out’ melds psych rock elements with a strong surf rock undertone – particularly notable through a great rhythm shared via some heavy toms. As with some of the other Drool Brothers tunes, it’s easy to play spot the influence, but this strange blend of ‘Saucerful of Secrets’ era Floyd, Strawberry Alarm Clock and The Ventures sort of works on its own merits, especially when the melody hits its peak to introduce some superb harmony vocals. Other bands might have been tempted to drop in a big, fuzzy lead guitar break, but the Brothers prefer to let the variety of riffs and a direct hook speak for themselves here, and in terms of serving a (rather knowing) retro treat, it gives this album another highlight. Taking the opportunity to stretch out, the six minute jam ‘Green Jesus’ fuses a semi-grungy riff with a raft of psychedelic effects. The moody riff forms the basis of one of the album’s most dense arrangements, but by contrasting that with vocal effects, a few great, trippy melodies and some busy percussive elements, nothing sounds leaden. Admittedly, there’s nothing about this track that sounds like ‘The Song That Nobody Heard’ or ‘Snacks and Treats’ – both shared just a short time earlier – but (deliberately or otherwise) this plays like a great tribute to the darker side of the briefly brilliant Tripping Daisy, making it very much worth hearing.

Elsewhere, the title cut brings back the funk courtesy of a really groove-laden bass, which coupled with a few alt-pop melodies and a world of keys evoking old mellotron drones captures most of the band’s best traits in one tight arrangement. The 70s feel is spot on, even if the production values belie a more modern origin. It’s hard not to be swept along with a great melody here, even if it feels somewhat at odds with what feels too much like a lax, semi-spoken vocal. In time, however, it’s clear that there’s enough great musicianship here to make the arrangement stand, and its marriage of neo-futurist keyboard sounds, chopping guitars and occasional bits of fuzz have a retro coolness that fits the album’s general mood.

Make it past their choice of moniker, and the Drool Brothers deliver some great sounds on ‘Psychology’. By taking a whole world of late 70s influences and 90s guitar fuelled charms to create nine enjoyable tracks, its an album that should strike a chord with power pop and retro rock fans everywhere. As before, there are times where the material can feel a little derivative of its unquestionably great influences, but originality be damned – if you’re looking for a record that scores quite highly in pure entertainment value, this will fit the bill.

November 2025