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I like unusual, hard to describe groups, though of course that makes them hard to review — especially when there’s no factual information included with their release or found online, and it’s an ambitious 84-minute double-CD (rare for unknown acts) they’ve apparently been formulating three years. With a fold-out lyric/philosophy sheet and a dedication to the late Vic Chesnutt, Sun of Monkey are inexplicable; their music is likewise expressively impenetrable, like light fog. I can tell you the San Francisco ensemble play a weird, loose, open-ended, acid-psych hippie folk like something you might hear at their Fillmore West or Woodstock circa 1969 — what The Action listened to before recording Rolled Gold. Yet they don’t sound like stoners: imagine if TV on the Radio went freak folk; imagine revolutionary rastas went hypnotic, pattern-y rock; imagine Sun of Monkey, keeping it real. (wildfruits.bandcamp.com/album/sun-of-monkey)