Share on Facebook Share on Twitter Share on Google+ Share on Reddit Share on Pinterest Share on Linkedin Share on Tumblr It is possible to love JEFF the Brotherhood’s new album, Global Chakra Rhythms. You’d have to appreciate the band’s quest to run through all iterations of power-pop and psychedelic rock. It would also help if you saw the band’s 2011 breakthrough, We Are the Champions, as a very good Weezer album for stoned people. Finally, you’d need to recognize the band’s first 2015 release, Wasted on the Dream, as a quiet victory of hooky guitar leads, pop smarts, sincerity and indulgence. Even having all that, you’d still have to prefer a record of half-baked psych-rock experiments than something cohesive. It’s a lot of homework to do just to live in a world in which Global Chakra Rhythms isn’t a self-involved, boring letdown. The rest of us, those lured into excitement by “Coat Check Girl” or “Melting Place” or any of the other dozen quality tunes the band has written, the album is curious at best, downright frustrating at its worst. It reminds one of Parquet Court’s Monastic Living, another 2015 release of limited appeal. While that album sounds like an attempt to remake Metal Machine Music, Global Chakra Rhythms plays like a séance to resurrect the prog-rock heroes of the ‘70s; what’s brought back are zombies, devoid of the charm and excitement that made them dangerous. The albums sounds like a black light, personified. Take a moment for “Radiating Fiber Plane,” the lone pearl among the album’s slop. Built on a tender bass line and an endless guitar tone that never seems to deteriorate, the track sounds like a lost Sonic Youth hit. It eventually blooms into a soft tornado of guitar slides and reverb, sounding and feeling like something new. It’s a lane that JEFF the Brotherhood has not traveled to date, and it suggests there will be a place for them should they decide to write a Yo La Tengo album sometime in the future. In an album that seeks to create mood more than melody, “Radiating Fiber Plane” does both. The band’s ability to effortlessly write such a substantial song makes the rest of the album inexplicable. Global Chakra Rhythms is eternal reverb, chanting vocals, steady, simple drums and comedown. If you really try, you can listen to “Solstice Canyon,” with its sly horns and subtle piano, and hear shades of Pink Floyd, but after five minutes of no takeoff and winding noise, hope gives way to realization of gross self-indulgence. A hopeful person can listen to the driving rhythm section on the album’s title track and aspire to arrive at something like The Doors, but after seven minutes, the song reveals itself to be all travel, no destination. “Mary of Silence,” with its heavy, echoing low end and relentlessly moaning tones, reaches for the slow crush of Led Zeppelin’s best work, but plods on to nothingness, like a half-speed parade into a sinkhole. All these endlessly long, endlessly masturbatory songs make tracks like “Food and Wine Festival” and “Pringle Variations” seem like blessing for their contextual brevity. JEFF the Brotherhood is too talented to make an album with no redeeming qualities. There are people out there who will hear Global Chakra Rhythms and be glad, but they are the lucky few. The rest of us will be left with a self-involved tour the late ‘60s and early ‘70s that points out nothing but the weed spots. The band is better than this.