It seemed, at the time, a strange move by the band to follow up one of its most well reviewed and best-selling albums (Skylarking) with another foray into writing homages to their psychedelic pop heroes. But if they had cachet to burn, they were going to dance around the fire in velvet trousers and paisley shirts.

While this is the second release the band conceived of under the name the Dukes Of Stratosphear, it is the first one you’ll see on this list, so a little history. Ever since Gregory joined the band, he and Partridge bandied about the idea of recording, as Partridge put it, “an album of songs that sound like they come from 1967.” It took until 1984 for him to finally have the time and songs to execute the idea, and with the help of producer John Leckie, they decided to record an album as the Dukes, complete with groovy monikers. Partridge was Sir John Johns, Gregory chose Lord Cornelius Plum, Moulding went as The Red Curtain, and Dave’s brother Ian, brought along to play drums, was E.I.E.I Owen.

The idea with Psonic was to follow the same path that they took to record the first Dukes release, 25 O’Clock: get into the studio and knock these songs out with as little fuss as possible. And considering the pains it took to birth Skylarking, is it any wonder that the three men wanted to play around with an old friend (Leckie)?

One slight difference with these Dukes recordings is that a few of the songs the group brought to the table were initially intended for XTC albums. The very Beatles-esque “Shiny Cage” was originally proffered up as a track for The Big Express, and “Little Lighthouse” was attempted and scrapped during the sessions for Skylarking. And “You’re My Drug” was tossed aside for being far too similar to the Byrds.

When the Dukes took up the mantle of those songs, they amplified the parts that cut too close to their inspirations. “Drug” sounds too Byrds-ian? Of course it does. So let Gregory do his best Roger McGuinn (as guitarist) impression and make the bass sound like a fat bouncing ball. You think, as Partridge apparently did, that Moulding was trying to meld together every part of Revolver into one song with “Shiny Cage”? Then that’s exactly what the Dukes will do, right down to the tabla-like drum part, a bridge that apes “Yellow Submarine,” and hollow-body guitar jangle. Even the Brian Wilson-inspired “Pale And Precious” was allowed some multi-part harmonies and “God Only Knows” sleigh bells to send it on its merry way.

Like 25 O’Clock and unlike everything else in the XTC discography, it’s best to approach this album with as blithe a spirit as you can. This is a straight-up lark, and the band has no compunction saying just that. What else to call an album that opens a track with the sound of a rock being tossed into a pond (“Brainiac’s Daughter”) and threw in a little psychedelic storybook tale narrated by a precocious little lass? With that mindset, you can simply marvel at how deeply the music of their childhood sunk into their impressionable minds, and therefore how easy it was for the Dukes and Leckie to get every last detail of those liquid, stomping, mind-altering singles and albums just right.