Legend of the Naarm/Melbourne provinces, Michael Beach bestowed the riff roaring mega behemoth Dream Violence on the world courtesy of Goner Records and Poison City. Following up his collaboration with Pete (Onion Engine) with Brain Drugs and an epic resume as legendary touring guitarist for Thigh Master and the immortal departed Charlie Megira — Beach commands and conducts chords like a skilled sorcerer taming the flames from the couloir depths of a combustion inferno chamber to blazing that ferocious fire back up into the hedonistic cushiony cumulus tranquility of the stratosphere.

Dream Violence begins with a bang on the heavy galloping rhythmic plodding "Irregardless", keeping that energy strumming full speed ahead with "De Facto Blues", right before fusing garage elements with a cinematic sense of electro synth pop soundtracking sentiments of tension on "The Tower". The spiritual dimensions of the surreal are delivered like a hymn ordained by an esoteric ancient order on "Metaphysical Dice", to the bonfire drum beat dirge of "You Know, Life is Cheap", the art pop floral daybreak solstice basking "Spring", extoling the aesthetics of that heartland styled rock & roll with the dive bar electric pub bombast, "Curtain of Night". Dream Violence finds that balance between subterranean core cataclysms and heavenward baroque bare-all ballads like the stunning and earth-quaking piano lead "You Found Me Out", the moody and brooding atmospheres of the instrumental title track that leads to the album's epilogue "Sometimes I Get that Cold Feeling" that combines sublime veils of dissonate and strange sound designs that populate a beautiful, honestly human and vulnerably sparse piano postlude. Join us after the listen as Michael Beach delivers an exclusive curation of inspirations:

Michael Beach’s Week in Pop

Here are 5 things that I've found quite moving over the last little while:

James Baldwin, Giovanni's Room

I went for a long walk with my wonderful friend Leah Senior (an outstanding Australian songwriter/performer) and we talked music and poetry and literature. There was a time during Covid lockdowns when a walk with friends was the only permitted reason to be outside your home, and this particular walk stands out as a highlight of my year. Three of the books that Leah recommended would become favorites for the year (Mary Oliver's Rules for the Dance, Rutger Bregman's Utopia for Realists, and Giovanni's Room by James Baldwin). I hadn't read any Baldwin before, and this book absolutely leveled me. It's insights into homosexuality and bisexuality in a 1950s society with strict social norms are deep and nuanced. The fact that Baldwin, who was black, chose to make his characters white so that the book would be more widely read is doubly heartbreaking. Tragedy, love, and compassion set in 1950's Paris...absolutely stunning, especially during a year where I so badly wanted to travel.

Bertrand Russell, Why Men Fight

My close friend Etep, who I play in Brain Drugs with, recommended checking out Bertrand Russell's BBC Lectures on Authority and the Individual. I was immediately hooked. Considered the preeminent modern British philosopher, he overflows with love and hope for humanity, and explains extremely complex social and philosophical ideas in a straightforward manner. I find his work consistently mind-expanding. At its core, Why Men Fight carries with it a desire to guide humanity to a future more just, equal, and sustainable, without cynicism or irony.

Ingmar Bergman, Persona

I finally got around to digging into Ingmar Bergman's films. Not sure why I waited so long, but I have a Swedish friend who couldn't let the oversight slide, especially in a year when I was stuck inside. Persona is incredible. I thought about trying to describe it, but it's been called 'the Mount Everest of cinematic analysis,' so I'm gonna struggle to do it justice. Duality and mental illness, sexuality and desire, Jungian theory and vampire mythology....it's both stunningly gorgeous and highly experimental. Watch it if you haven't already!

Chris Smith, “Second Hand Smoke”

Chris Smith has been a musical hero of mine since I first heard his records over a decade ago. He takes his time making records and it shows. His songs and instrumental pieces are considered and scrutinized over many years, so that each tone, each subtle musical shift, contains a multitude. His record Bad Orchestra was reissued in the states by Ben Chasney of Six Organs of Admittance (another favorite) after becoming a cult classic. After spending a decade or more obsessing over the details of Bad Orchestra, I thought no new record of his could outdo it. The newly released Second Hand Smoke made me think again—it's sonic palate is deep and wide, the ideas are ever mysterious.

Monica Brooks, “You'll Sit on This Stone”

As a pianist, I've often approached learning music with the sort of naivety that allows me, for better or worse, to pursue new musical styles no matter how challenging they might seem. It must be a remnant of the American mentality of you can do anything you want to do that I grew up with. Monica Brooks' music is different. I don't want to figure it out, learn it, or absorb it as a technical skill like I do so much of the music of my heroes. Her piano playing stops me in my tracks, always—I struggle to do anything while it's playing. I just want to stop and listen and admire and experience it. What a tremendous gift she gives to us in a world that doesn't stop.

Michael Beach’s Dream Violence is available now via Goner Records and Poison City.