Karma Sheen make psych-rock that feels gloriously sun-baked and slightly untethered, pulling threads from 60s fuzz, cosmic Bollywood shimmer and sprawling modern psychedelia. It’s all sitar-flecked textures, swirling guitars and vocals that drift between meditative calm and kaleidoscopic lift-off — a sound that feels both lovingly retro and totally its own creature.

What makes them stand out is the way they stitch those influences together with real intention. One moment you’re deep in a hypnotic drone, the next you’re jolted into a jangling groove that snaps everything into technicolour. It’s heady stuff, but there’s warmth and humour in there too — a sense of a band enjoying the space they’re creating.

On a festival stage, their music has the kind of slow-blooming power that draws people in like moths to a lava lamp. Expect washes of colour, long arcs of melody and a crowd quietly floating a few inches above the grass. Karma Sheen is going to be a trip worth taking.