Acid And Honey

Babe Rainbow — 2026

“Babe Rainbow sound best when they stop chasing songs and let the groove carry everything.”

Babe Rainbow have never been a band in a hurry, and Acid And Honey finds the band chasing an overall groove instead of a hook. This is their seventh record, and the origin story tells you most of what you need to know about how it feels: sketched out on a beat up op shop acoustic aboard a houseboat in Amsterdam, then taken to Kyle Mullarky’s ranch in Malibu and shaped into something warm and swayable. Their earlier material leaned more into beachy jangle and reverb, but these eleven songs run on drum machines, velvety basslines that roll more than they push, and small foot tapping upbeats that slip country twang and dub into the same measure. Angus Dowling still sings like he is hanging out in a hammock and watching the waves roll in, which gives Acid And Honey the airy delivery that has always been part of Babe Rainbow’s niche.

I like a lot of this record, and I think it is one of their strongest albums in years, but I do not love all of it, and the reason is the same thing that makes it interesting. When Babe Rainbow commit to a feel, the record glows. When they hop styles just for the sake of it, a couple of tracks drift and disappear almost as soon as they end. The six minute title track is the clearest example of both. It builds a genuinely hypnotic loop, then keeps riding it well past the point where I wanted it to turn a corner. Still, the album also has some great songs that work well with the rest of their catalog. The playing is loose in the good way, the production stays warm without sanding off the weirdness, and there is real craft in how casually they fold funk and R&B into what is basically beach music. It will not convert anyone who found the earlier albums too laid back, and it does not hit the heights of their best moments. But I did keep coming back to it, which is usually the only test that matters.