Review: If it genuinely is time to call last orders on a scene that's expanded so far that even tiny villages in the Faero Isles seemingly have their own psych fests. Glasgow's premier inner space cadets would know about it first, so well versed are they in the punishment of amplification and the expanding of consciousness. Moreover, their largely improvised extrapolations have always transcended the constraints of all or any scene, being imbued with punk spirit and devil-may-care abandon to match their skill and invention. 'Psych Is Dead' might just be the most arresting Cosmic Dead record yet, setting its controls for the heart of a planet beyond Hawkwind, beyond Can and located co-ordinates unknown, on a rickety spacecraft fuelled entirely by Buckfast. Hop on board for a third-eye-cleansing ride.