Man, I fucking love the bass on this record. In fact, the entire thing just feels like a love letter to a time when albums were made as complete things to be listened to as a whole; it’s no surprise that Dewey Mahood, founder and bandleader of Plankton Wat, states in his notes that he wanted to craft a ‘big studio album like the ones bands made in the 1970s’ and that bands like King Crimson and Can get a mention.
Conceived as a comment on life before the internet, the record screams nostalgia, but before anybody cringes, Dewey is too good an artist to make a derivative set. The Vanishing World is very much its own thing, and the ideas and quality of musicianship throughout the ten songs keep it interesting and exciting throughout.
And we do have a crack team of players present here; James Shaver’s killer bass lines (that I mentioned) run through songs like the thrillingly mercurial instrumental Hot Tropics and the more straight-up, almost Black Sabbath-esque rock of Surf King, injecting a ton of energy and forcing a wide grin. On the high-tempo Kaldi, drummer Dustin Dybvig maintains a banging fast line that allows Mahood’s fun guitar line and electric piano room to dance around, not to mention the shot of joy that is Victor Nash’s trumpet. It’s a whole lot of fun from guys who clearly love making music.
This is not strictly an instrumental record, but vocals feature sparingly, adding another texture to a song rather than being the focal point. On Forgotten Dreams, the instruments accommodate Dewey’s voice neatly, but let loose between verses, further demonstrating the band’s prowess and the main focus of the music, which is less lyrics and more musicianship. The mix, too, is expertly handled, with subtle flourishes throughout that set it apart: the drums on Forgotten Dreams sit way behind the flugelhorn and kick in after a few seconds with an effect-laden guitar line. Ace.
Feather River Canyon is another interesting one, with strangely muted low drum notes played alongside an upbeat tattoo, joined by another wicked, wandering bass line and an easygoing guitar part that sits atop ghostly keys. It’s a leisurely-paced venture into the unknown, as strange as it is compelling. This one could have tripled its three minutes or so without overstaying its welcome.
Another killer little oddball is Iberia, which switches from a spacious, sci-fi soundscape with meandering trumpet to a late-night, super-cool band workout just after the minute mark. Here, the bass and drums kick along together at a decent lick, providing a slinky chassis for more tangly guitar playing and distorted licks. It’s a lot of fun and highlights the intuition present between the players and a clear love of the music they are playing.
The Vanishing World is a cracking piece; at times high-octane and at others low-key and sparse (often within one song), the creativity on show is hugely satisfying and keeps the music shifting and surprising. A belter of a record.
“The Vanishing World is an album about life before the internet, a time of youth, and playing outdoors with friends. It is an album about dreams, the ocean, California sunshine, Oregon clouds, childhood, vague memories, swimming in rivers, skateboarding, and nostalgia. It is about my feelings as an adult looking back on a life always trying to create art, connect with people, and explore the great outdoors without the use of computers or technology.”
Dewey Mahood
The Vanishing World (March 20th, 2026) Sun Cru