Inner Cosmos by The Beans: A Sonic Journey Through Space and Sound
Released in 2002 by Canadian rock outfit The Beans, Inner Cosmos is a record that doesn’t just sit on your shelf—it orbits around your brain for days. With its mix of free improvisation and post-rock vibes, this album feels like an uncharted galaxy of sound, brought to life by the skilled hands of Recorded By Colin Stewart and Mastered By Mark Lawson. Released under Foreverbad Media Ranch, it’s not exactly mainstream, but that’s part of its charm.
The album opens with “All Planets,” a track that kicks things off with a slow burn before exploding into a cosmic jam session. It's the kind of song where you can almost visualize asteroids drifting lazily through space while electric guitar riffs spiral out like solar flares. What makes “All Planets” stick? Maybe it's how effortlessly it blends chaos and calm—like staring at the night sky and realizing how small we really are. Or maybe it’s just because it’s got one heck of a groove that refuses to let go.
Then there’s “Earth,” which closes the album on a surprisingly grounded note (pun intended). Compared to the sprawling interstellar odysseys earlier in the tracklist, “Earth” feels intimate, almost like coming home after a long journey. The Beans manage to pull off this shift without making it feel jarring—a testament to their ability to balance experimentation with emotion. There’s something comforting yet haunting about the way the instruments weave together here, leaving you with more questions than answers. Like… what even is home, man?
Other tracks like “Moon” and “Sun” keep the vibe flowing seamlessly, each adding its own texture to the overall tapestry. But honestly, if I had to pick favorites, it’d be those two standouts: “All Planets” for its audacity and “Earth” for its quiet brilliance. Together, they make Inner Cosmos feel less like an album and more like an experience—one that invites you to lose yourself in its vastness.
What strikes me most about Inner Cosmos is how timeless it feels, despite being over two decades old. Sure, some production elements might scream early 2000s, but the heart of the music remains universal. Listening to it today feels like finding an old mixtape from a friend who knew you better than you knew yourself.
And hey, here’s a random thought: If aliens ever do visit Earth, I hope someone plays them this album. Chances are, they’ll dig it. After all, good music transcends planets, right?
