When you hear the phrase "blast from the past," it's often just some tired cliché stated because the person from whom it came can't think of anything better to say. Now myself, I try to avoid clichés as much as possible, but if there's any band that fits the "blast from the past" description, it's the Misteriosos.

Just the name sounds like something straight out of the Twilight Zone. Their self-titled record is drenched in psychedelia and the low, droning vocals of Tula Storm transport you right back to the the 1960s. Listening to this record will undoubtedly make you think of a music video from the 1960s, where it was only the band playing in front of a swirled, color-drenched background spinning around to the point of hallucination. They've captured that essence to perfection, every instrument sounds so completely on point that it's scary.

Not quite as scary, however, as the visions this record conjures up if you close your eyes, lay down in darkness, and just take it in.

It's one of those records, not merely a casual listen. An experience of sorts. Not a life altering one, not a phenomenal one, but an experience nonetheless. The layers and textures are gorgeous, the guitar tones so perfectly pitched, the vocals so soothing and right for the music behind it. Some songs do have a bit more pep to them than others, but it's the extended instrumental passages that feel the most authentically brilliant. All the eerie sounds of the Wurlitzer, the tight blues rhythms, the hauntingly lifeless vocals of Tula Storm, all combines to create an absolutely perfect atmosphere. I've never heard a band replicate a time period in music like this trio has been able to. Truly impressive.

The nine-minute "The Sun" isn't so much a test of endurance, as an ability to not succumb to the drone and chunky bass that will simply put you into a dazed state, only heightened by the robotic like vocals of Storm, bouncing off the echoed chord progressions.

A staggeringly impressive recreation of the height of `60s psychedelia.