In the subterranean corridors of contemporary psychedelia, few projects capture the sensation of spiritual and sonic erosion as effectively as Magic Shoppe. With ‘Resurrection Machine,’ the project’s architect, Josiah Webb, delivers a concentrated dose of abrasive desolation and hypnotic beauty that feels less like a traditional recording and more like a transmission from a collapsing star. Acting as the sole instrumentalist and engineer for this release, Webb has cultivated a singular vision at Wave Interference in Boston, meticulously layering walls of sound that blur the boundary between the physical world and the digital void.
The record initiates its descent with “Going Nowhere Slowly,” a title that serves as both a mission statement and a warning. The track is built upon a foundation of motorik persistence, utilizing a rhythmic drive that feels both relentless and strangely stagnant. Webb’s ability to manipulate guitar textures is on full display here, as he weaves ribbons of fuzz and reverb into a dense tapestry that suggests motion without progress. This sonic architecture marks a significant departure from his earlier work; where previous releases often leaned into the airy, shimmering jangle of classic neo-psychedelia, the tones here are noticeably more compressed and muscular. The evolution of his guitar work reveals a shift toward a more industrial, punishing clarity, exchanging the wash of a wide-open landscape for the claustrophobic intensity of a steel-walled room.
This sense of cosmic displacement carries over into “Space Cadet,” a composition that trades the aggressive grit of the opening for a more expansive, hallucinatory atmosphere. Despite the lone-wolf nature of the production, the arrangement feels remarkably panoramic. Webb’s proficiency across every instrument allows him to create a dialogue between the pulsing basslines and the shimmering, celestial guitar leads. The track avoids the clichés of space-rock by maintaining a jagged, earthly edge, ensuring that even as the music drifts toward the stratosphere, it remains tethered to a sense of gritty, urban isolation. By utilizing a tighter, more saturated distortion than on past records, Webb manages to make the ethereal feel heavy, grounding the space aesthetic in a tangible, vibrating reality.
“Oh No!,” represents a sharp pivot toward the visceral. It is a frantic, urgent explosion of sound that highlights Webb’s engineering prowess at Wave Interference. The mixing and mastering, handled entirely by the artist himself between 2024 and 2025, allows the percussion to cut through a thick fog of distortion with surgical clarity. The song captures a feeling of sudden, unavoidable realization; a sonic panic attack that is paradoxically disciplined and tightly controlled. It showcases the darker, more industrial undercurrents that have always haunted the Magic Shoppe discography, but here they are sharpened into a lethal point, stripped of any lingering retro-pop sentimentality.
One of the most provocative moments on the release arrives with “Everything Sounds Better When You’re Dead.” Beyond its cynical title, the track explores the aesthetics of decay. Webb utilizes layers of drone and oscillating feedback to create a soundscape that feels ancient and futuristic simultaneously. There is a haunting quality to the way the melodies seem to struggle against the weight of the production, mirroring the titular suggestion that art often achieves its most profound resonance only after the creator has ceased to exist. It is a meta-commentary on the permanence of recorded sound, rendered through a lens of dark, shimmering noise. The tonal maturity here is evident; Webb has traded the “wall of sound” for a maze where individual frequencies are carved out to create a more terrifying, three-dimensional depth.
The EP concludes with “Little Sheep,” a track that offers a deceptive sense of calm before dissolving into a magnificent, swirling chaos. By playing every instrument himself, Webb ensures that the dynamics are perfectly synchronized with his internal rhythm, allowing the song to breathe and contract with an intimacy that a full band might struggle to replicate. The track functions as a final synthesis of the EP’s themes: the struggle for identity within a mechanical world and the eventual surrender to the resurrection machine of historical cycle and memory.
‘Resurrection Machine’ is a testament to the power of the singular creative mind. Josiah Webb has not merely recorded a set of songs; he has constructed a self-contained universe where the shadows are just as vibrant as the light. Through his meticulous work, he proves that psychedelic music is at its best when it isn’t just about expansion, but about the intense, focused exploration of the inner self. This is an essential document for those who find comfort in the fuzz and clarity in the distortion, signaling a new, more formidable era for the project.
Find out more by visiting Bandcamp or Little Cloud Records to have a listen or to purchase.
