Baked Beans - Babble (LP) - Orange Neon Vinyl

Baked Beans’ debut Babble arrived in 2018 on Flightless Records and it still hits with the kind of organ-fuelled rush that makes you want to turn the living room into a sticky pub stage. The Geelong outfit are led by Matt Blach, better known to many as the drummer for The Murlocs, but here he steps forward, steering a sound that trades in Hammond grit, garage bite, and a restless psych pulse. It’s the kind of record that slots neatly alongside the Flightless family tree that gave us King Gizzard and The Murlocs, yet it wears its own boots. Less kaleidoscope swirl, more petrol and valve heat.

What jumps out first is the organ. Not as a retro prop, but as the engine. Chords grind and bloom, leaving trails of heat while the guitars slash through with a sharp, unfussy tone. The rhythm section locks in with that clattering, forward lean you hear in a packed bandroom when the band knows exactly how long to hold the tension before snapping it. Babble works because it keeps the songs tight and punchy. No endless noodling, no filler, just a series of brisk psych burners that feel cut live. You can imagine the takes landing hot, amps humming, the band letting the tape run a touch long because it feels good.

There’s a vintage streak to the writing that nods to Australian garage lineage without feeling stuck in the shed. Hints of Masters Apprentices and The Missing Links in the attack, a lick of early Deep Purple in the organ tone, the odd motorik stride when the drums lock into a single-minded pattern. But the voice is local and current. The lyrics ride the groove rather than wag a finger at it, and the arrangements keep springing small, satisfying moves. A dropped-out bar here, a quick harmony there, a riff that snaps back for one last go before the fade. It’s smart, but it never gets precious.

Flightless has a knack for making records that translate to the turntable, and Babble is no exception. The mix gives the organ and guitars room to scrap without turning to mush, while the drums keep their crack. On a decent system the kick lands with a wooden thud, the cymbals sizzle, and that thick organ reverb settles around the edges like cigarette haze. If you’re the sort who trawls for Baked Beans vinyl, this one earns its space next to your Murlocs and ORB LPs. It’s the record you reach for when someone says they want something psychy but not floaty. Something with grit that still moves.

What gives Babble staying power is the band’s sense of pace. They sequence like seasoned live players, stacking songs so the energy crests and dips just enough to keep you in. There’s always a new hook around the bend, and they never outstay their welcome. When the closer hits, you feel a little sweat on the brow and the easy decision to flip it back to side A. It’s no surprise the album found quick fans among community radio listeners and gig‑goers who like their psych with a garage heart.

If you’re crate digging in a Melbourne record store, keep an eye out. Flightless pressings have a habit of disappearing then popping back up, and Babble vinyl tends to move when it surfaces. Online is a fair bet too if you’re trying to buy Baked Beans records online without trekking across town. Collectors who chase Baked Beans albums on vinyl already know that this one feels purpose built for the format. The saturation suits wax, and the songs benefit from the physical pause between sides.

Babble doesn’t reinvent the wheel, and it doesn’t need to. It gets the basics right, plays them loud, and trusts feel over fuss. In a scene that can veer into reverence or excess, Baked Beans land in that sweet middle where the songs sound classic on first pass and rowdier every time you turn them up. For anyone browsing vinyl records Australia wide and looking for a local psych gem that goes hard, this is a safe recommendation and a lively spin.