Pachyman - Switched On (LP)

Pachyman’s Switched-On is the kind of record that makes you double check the date on the sleeve. It lands with the warmth and weight of classic 70s dub, yet feels completely alive in the present. The Puerto Rico born, Los Angeles based multi-instrumentalist Pachy García has spent the last few years building his own little universe of bass, tape hiss and spring reverb, and this 2023 ATO Records release is his most welcoming entry point. He plays almost everything himself, lays it down to tape in his home studio, then shapes it with tasteful delays that bloom like city lights in rain. It’s a studio-as-instrument record in the most satisfying way.

The title nods to the Moog era, but Switched-On isn’t a synth stunt. It’s a dub record with cheeky synthetics slipped into the mix, a subtle colour rather than a headline. The heart is still the rhythm section. Pachyman’s drums tick with that tight, almost martial steadiness you hear on Channel One sides, and the bass is generous and unhurried. Guitar skanks flicker in and out, keys bubble like a pot left to simmer, and every drop is staged so you can feel the room swing open. If you’ve spent any time with King Tubby or Scientist, you’ll clock the lineage, but there’s no museum dust here. He understands the grammar of dub and writes new sentences with it.

“All Night Long” is the obvious hook for newcomers. Featuring Brazilian American singer Winter, it floats a soft-focus vocal over a lovers rock sway, all sweetness without tipping into syrup. It’s the rare crossover moment that still plays nice with the deeper cuts. “Goldline” is another standout, a sly salute to the Highland Park listening bar and a perfect late-night cruise, bass leaning into the corners while the organs glow. Elsewhere, Pachyman lets the melodica carry gentle, slightly melancholic melodies that nod to Augustus Pablo without pastiche. The record feels sequenced for a full spin rather than playlist nibbles, and it rewards the commitment.

Part of the charm is how you can hear the room work. He favours a live dub approach, riding the desk so echoes bloom and vanish by hand. The result has a human pulse that many software-heavy takes on the style miss. You can almost see him reaching for the spring reverb, teasing out a snare splash, then tucking it back before it overstays its welcome. It’s minimalist, but not austere, and there’s a light humour to the way he lets a line hang or a filter sweep flirt with kitsch then snap back to earth.

García’s path into dub has always felt believable. He cut his teeth drumming and playing keys in the garage-splattered Prettiest Eyes, then built a second life in LA as a one-man studio band, studying the great Jamaican engineers by ear and chasing their spirit with his own tools. Switched-On is where that study flowers into something personal. You can hear Puerto Rico in the easy romance of the melodies, LA in the hi-fi low end and the way the tracks feel designed for rooms that care about sound. It’s the kind of album that would sit comfortably in a Melbourne record store bin between Jackie Mittoo and contemporary Balearic, and you’d nod like it belongs there.

On wax, the music breathes. The Switched-On vinyl pressing gives the bass real carriage and keeps the percussion crisp, so if you’re hunting for Pachyman vinyl this is the one to snag first. It’s also the album I point to when someone asks where to start with Pachyman albums on vinyl, because it balances purist dub instincts with a generosity to casual ears. If you need to buy Pachyman records online, grab it with a tote full of other roots and lovers rock favourites, and it’ll glue the whole weekend together. Shops that ship vinyl records Australia wide tend to keep this in steady rotation for good reason.

Switched-On won’t shock anyone with wild left turns, and that’s fine. It’s about craft, feel and the little thrills that come from a perfectly timed echo or a bass line that leans just right. Put it on while making dinner, or after hours when the lights are low, and it will quietly run the room. That might be the highest praise you can give a dub record.