Sri Aurobindo are Mike Romano, Brandon Arinoldo, Danny Chenault, and Mike Furniere. They are a garage-worthy psychedelic rock band that has been playing in and around Baltimore, Maryland for 5 years. They released their self-titled debut and also Return Into Earth last year, and now present us with Cave Painting.

Cave Painting will be the second release in the Friends Records catalog, it will be the band’s debut LP on wax, and it is limited to 500 copies on green vinyl. We’ve described them as a healthy dose of Amon Duul II and The Doors playing in their garage in Texas in the late 60s, and other press folks have said nice thing as well…

Press

“…these truly Pastoral Motherfuckers unleash their Fenris Wolf in one hell of a righteous manner, uniting their multiple acoustic guitars, analogue synthesizers, banjos and hand percussion with that damned flute in such a righteous manner that we are carried up in Sri Aurobindo’s skirts and delivered with haste to that same higher plane formerly inhabited by Ancients such as Kalacakra, Friendsound and the two Amon Düüls at their most Kommun Ein.” – Julian Cope Head Heritage, December ’09 Drudion

“Local psych enthusiasts already know they will love this (and most any) outing from the Sris, but this release manages to provide enough edge from other influences to make them sound much more unique than a simple homage to a genre. They continue to wrangle some fantastic guitar and bass tones (probably due in no small part to studio whiz Chris Freeland), yet this go-round they have crafted their most distinctive and cohesive offering yet. A blast to listen, Cave Painting sounds ripe to give them broader appeal, something well-deserved and perhaps overdue.” – Greg Szeto Aural States

“It’s the sort of free-flowing, multi-part, pushing and pulling tambourine and hand drums, banjo-and-flute morass that starts off like pieces of a dream coalescing in your mind before slowly picking up tempo and layering on the drones and building into some fuzzed-out guitars and head-slapping cymbals, the sort of odyssey that you heard bubbling out from under the door or your high-school friend’s older sister’s room after she came back from that summer in Chicago.” – Bret McCabe Baltimore City Paper