Karma Smile by Coolonaut: Album Review

by admin January 23, 2026

January 23, 2026

Karma Smile finds Coolonaut sounding more fired up, focused, and ferociously alive than ever. Born in Scotland and now based in rural Australia, Coolonaut makes no secret of where his sonic soul lives: deep in the analogue haze of mid-to-late ’60s psychedelia and mod rock.

Self-recorded on an analogue 8-track machine, this third LP leans fully into that warm, imperfect, gritty, and proudly unpolished ethos. But while the sound nods to the past, the spirit of Karma Smile is rooted firmly in the present, reacting to a world that feels increasingly upside down, cruel, and absurd.

Rather than chasing trends or glossy modern production, Coolonaut doubles down on raw emotion and moral urgency. The album crackles with rage, disbelief, and dark irony, driven by a belief in karmic reckoning when justice seems absent. It’s protest music without slogans, soaked in fuzz, reverb, and a deep sense of unease.

The opener “Confabulation” kicks the door open with jangly, bustling guitar chords, splashing cymbals, and pulsing drums that feel instantly addictive. The energy is restless and propulsive, pulling you straight into Coolonaut’s world as his engaging vocal delivery rides the groove with purpose and bite.

Things get heavier on the title track, “Karma Smile.” A revving, ominous bass sets the tone before the drums crash in with force. Hammond organs swell and sizzle around sharp, high vocals that cut like a warning siren. He sings of injustice and how a certain class of people don’t care about people who “die like insects in a jar” because they are unaffected. In fact, these people are glad that you are gone. These lines make the song one of the album’s most confrontational moments.

Later, “I Don’t Need to Apologize” channels defiance in its purest form, as sharp guitars slash over a moody bassline, jittery percussion, and thumping beats. At the same time, Coolonaut sings with smug, unapologetic conviction. It’s bitter, bold, and cathartic.

Karma Smile isn’t here to soothe or entertain politely. It’s a snarling, analogue protest record that stares straight at the chaos of our time—and refuses to look away.