White Manna tickets and 2024 tour dates

Biography

White Manna plays space rock using a scorched-earth policy. The Arcata, California, quartet may telegraph where they’re coming from and where they’re going to take you with their track titles, but knowing the itinerary doesn’t dampen the thrill of their excursion into stellar depths.

Opening track “Acid Head” is not false advertising. It begins with an amiable boogie-rock amble before tumescing into stentorian, Loop-like riffing. You know that you can count on White Manna enveloping your head in the Asheton brothers’ genius string thuggery and convulsing you with the primordial throb harnessed by the Stooges (and, later, Hawkwind), before sonic irony was invented.

For most of White Manna, the group focuses on mantric riffs that accelerate into speed-freak, headbanging frenzies. But on “Don’t Gun Us Down,” they throw a change-up, setting the science-fictional scene with billowing solar winds before shifting into a mantric cruiser over which a wah-wah guitar articulates a hedonist manifesto—something along the lines of “fire all of your guns at once and explode into space.”

White Manna don’t dazzle with eclecticism; instead, they’re monomaniacs with the irrepressible ability to soar out of the mundane and into the unknown via tried-and-true methods upgraded to modern 21st century specs. Read more on Last.fm. User-contributed text is available under the Creative Commons By-SA License; additional terms may apply.MOJO MAGAZINE

Bleached out, dramatic score to America's wilds. While UK psych acts tend to journey inward in the face of madness, their US peers like to externalize thoughts crammed in their chaotic minds. So Pan, White Manna's fourth studio album in as many years, is a cathartic soundscaping of rugged northern California landscape; in particular of Humboldt Bay, where the five-piece reside, and Manila where they write. Recorded live to tape at San Francisco's Lucky Cat Recording- a real treasure trove filled with tube/ vintage mikes, pre amps, compressors, vintage API 2824 mixing console et al- it's produce by Phil Manley (Trans Am), who keeps everything fuzzy, distorted and in the red. Equal parts Stooges punk, Hawkwind space rock and Kosmiche beat, their tidal wave of noise is dense, intimidating and unforgiving, best exemplified on the title track, and angry, chaotic squall dedicated to the Greek god.

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