it’s pretty clear now that what looked like it might have been some kind of counterculture is, in reality, just the plain old chaos of undifferentiated weirdness.
so said jerry garcia, grateful dead fella and ice-cream flavour.
it seems a fitting quote given the general absence of declared counterculturism (whatever that really means) from the underground of somethingorother these days. was it ever anything other than poseur iconoclasm (musically speaking)? punk lasted all of two dada-ish minutes, rave lasted a few glo-sticks longer. does the not always willingly labeled concept of freak folk that all this shit sprang from count, even as a subculture? or was/is it like the garcia reality of a handful of weirdoes and dope fiends and willingly amateurish muso’s gathering like cockroaches in dark dank basements to selfcongratulate masturbatory backslap? fuck knows. i’m wittering on anyway.
not that any of this matters since the underground seems turned on to classic rock these days.
hush arbors, dinosaur jr, woods, (two of the three appear in some capacity on barn nova) all cranking out some excellent fuzzy psyche rawk. all indulging their inner crazy horses and creedences and grateful deads. and this record’s doing much the same.
like any band who release music on a near ridiculous proliferation (skaters / emeralds types i’m looking at you…) there’s a real risk that genuine honest to god classics are lost in the slew of limited cdr-s and cassettes and seven inches that appear on a monthly basis, recording every instrumental brainfart sputtered out by those involved. considering they’ve recorded at least fifteen other records (and that’s not including offshoots) since the last two i heard – mother of thousands and green blues – it’d be easy to ignore this.
i didn’t, praise jeebus. coz in terms of full band, proper release, studio records it’s probably their best. maybes. but it is by far the most straightforward, succinct, listenable, compact and concise mv & ee set so far. eight songs in forty minutes. where their live side is loose and ramshackle this positively powers along with intent. forsaking much of the spindly folk jams and amped up psyche-noise in favour of an almost proggy seventies vibe, hard rock and roots manoeuvres.
feelin’ fine? with this opening number, then yeah (video below). it’s all languid, a slow lolloping gait of a song. like tom verlaine playing on yr porch. which woozes into get right church, a wahhed up jam, full of pastoral funk and mississippi fred mcdowell all fucked up on fuzz. and drums that remind me of the stooges no fun…
the core of the record consists of ragged rock. so very much in the sprawled thrall of neil young and crazy horse. summer magic exists somewhere between sabbath and floyd and dinosaur jr. and features a meaty six string mindmeld betwixt ee and mascis. speaking of mascis (again…), wandering nomad frankly could have slippery sloped it’s way off of farm and onto this. anyway the dark heart of this beast is undoubtedly the eleven minute bardo pond bleary haze of geetar electro-psyche that is bedroom eyes. it reminds me of some lurching monster from sleeps with angels (one of neil young and the horses underrated gems as far as i’m concerned). it rags and rages and blunders with monged virtuoisty. i don’t hesitate to use the word awesome here. and if anything it makes me sad that royal trux are no longer with us…
i’m running out of time here and i’ve not even mentioned gram parsons or the beautifully wonky spectrasound production or the fact i hear stevie wonder’s talking book scattershotted thoughout or the rather lovely sleeve. well i kindofhave now. so there you go. it’s christmas. buy one for the chaotic undifferentiated weirdie in yr life.
