Category: Psychedelic (Page 7 of 10)

Gov’t Mule: By a Thread


RIYL: Allman Brothers, Robin Trower, Mountain

Gov’t Mule treads that narrow divide that links jam band excess, raucous Southern rock and blustery white boy blues. Founded by guitarist Warren Haynes and the late Allen Woody, both of whom had been drafted to serve with the Allman Brothers during one of the band’s frequent reshufflings, the duo subsequently launched Gov’t Mule as an active side project in the mid ‘90s.

Since then, Gov’t Mule hasn’t digressed all that much from the rambling jams and blustery exhortations that distinguished the music Haynes and Woody created as employees in their day job. In fact, if the band was actually striving to set itself apart, it was never all that evident. For the most part, the group’s recorded catalog has been dominated by concert recordings, which have emphasized their instrumental prowess over more concise songcraft.

To a certain extent then, By a Thread marks something of a turning point in their recording campaign, placing a focus more on the material rather than their usual pyrotechnics. To be sure, there are the usual overwrought growls and howls, as evident in such blazing rampage of “Broke Down on the Brazos,” “Steppin’ Lightly” and “Monday Morning Meltdown,” each a searing onslaught that finds them adhering to more turgid testimonials. On the other hand, “Forevermore” and “Frozen Fear” suggest the band might be willing to treat the material with a hint of subtlety by toning down the more aggressive posturing. Of course, fans need not worry about an abrupt change of course, but it is worth noting that By a Thread might provide something of a kick to Govt Mule’s newer recruits. (Evil Teen 2009)

Gov’t Mule MySpace page

The Black Hollies: Softly Towards the Light


RIYL: The Beatles, Happy Mondays, The Takeover UK

Take the late ’60s Beatles and other British blues/psychedelia, shoot it through with early ’90s Madchester energy, add a sprinkle of indie pop sensibility and you get groovy if none-to-deep third album by the Black Hollies. Depth isn’t really necessary for this kind of album, though. Softly Towards the Light is so indebted to its sources that every track seems immediately recognizable, as if you’d heard these songs long ago sitting in front of your parent’s old hi-fi system as a kid. This immediately begs the question, “Why not listen to the originals, then?” and that is where that those “sprinkles” of modern production and indie introspection provide just enough of something different to make it resonate with today. Much of this can be attributed to Justin Angelo Morley’s breathy vocals, which carry a forceful earnestness that gives Doors-esque lines like “Lead me to the fire burning in your soul” an innocence rather than lustful intent. That is something that seems to be missing on Softly Towards… as British Blues had a earthy carnal quality, and Madchester was hedonistic in many ways, the Black Hollies bring a lighter touch that provides an airy, nothing short of happy feeling that is rare in pop music. Happy is usually relegated to overproduced, kid-smiley, bubblegum pop and not considered appropriate for adults. Here, this positive energy works extremely well with the counterpoint of Nicholas Ferrante’s bombastic drumming. The danceable, get-your-feet-moving pleasure of the Black Hollies can be credited to being caught up in Ferrante’s powerful rhythms that manages to ground them just enough to keep the rest of the band from floating away. The power tracks on the album that bring all of this together are the outstanding “Gloomy Monday Morning” in the number two slot, and “Number Ten Girl” with its soulful, darkly trippy groove.

All in all, Softly Toward the Light is an excellent album by the New Jersey quartet, and demonstrates not just a fidelity toward their sources and craft, but a real passion for making these classic sounds their own true expression. Ernest Jenning Record Co.

The Black Hollies MySpace page

Devendra Banhart: What Will We Be


RIYL: Donovan, Marc Bolan, Veviter

Toiling within the ranks of the indie underground, Devendra Banhart has managed to elevate himself into the highest ranks of the so-called “freak folk” hierarchy. His last album, Smokey Rolls Down Thunder Canyon, made a pitch to expand that tag, with Banhart attempting to meld his obtuse approach with the idyllic imagery of the L.A. environs that spawned such ‘60s lynchpins as Neil Young, CSN, the Mamas and the Papas, Joni Mitchell, and various others that made music in those hallowed hills. Likewise, his recruitment by the majors – in this case, Warner Bros. records, home to many of those aforementioned icons – seemed to indicate a concerted effort to break through the barriers.

Indeed, while Banhart’s new label affiliation might seem a concession to commercialism, in truth, the results are every bit as eclectic…and, for that matter, every bit as eccentric…as his earlier efforts. The songs are sung in both English and Spanish, and rather than the clear, coherent melodies identified with the so-called Southern California elite, Banhart still shifts his set-ups – often radically and in the space of a single song. Consequently, “Rats” has a somewhat foreboding start before segueing abruptly into a state of kinetic jubilation. The jazzy inference of “Chin Chin & Muck Muck” morphs several times before the song hits its stride. Likewise, “Angelika” might have succeeded as a soothing serenade had it not accelerated midway through into a sizzling Latin samba.

Still, for all his abrupt turns, Banhart retains a decidedly old school stance. His melodies may seem somewhat amorphous, but his quivering vocals and loping tempos frequently recall the pixie-like warble of Donovan and Marc Bolan. A couple of tracks might bode well for future sing-alongs, specifically “16 & Valencia Roxy Music” and the gentle Spanish serenade called “Brindo.” As an album that’s magnified by ambition and grand designs, What Will We Be may well be his best yet. (Warner Bros. 2009)

Devendra Banhart MySpace page
Click to buy What Will We Be from Amazon

The Flaming Lips: Embryonic


RIYL: Beck, early ’70s Miles Davis, pre-Dark Side Pink Floyd

It would be far too easy to call the Flaming Lips’ new album Embryonic “trippy.” Any of the albums they’ve released over the past decade could fit that description. But as it stands, the 18-track double disc affair is in fact pretty far out, even for the Lips. Drawing from the sound palettes of early ‘70s Miles Davis (the instrumental “Scorpio Sword” is particularly reminiscent of the edge-of-insanity performances that marked the days when Chick Corea and Tony Williams pushed Miles into serious avant garde territory) and pre-Dark Side Pink Floyd (think of Floyd’s soundtrack work on More), Wayne Coyne and crew have woven a heavy, dynamic soundscape that works best as a piece.

Flaming_Lips_15

Indeed, few songs stand out from the whole, one of the exceptions being the typically novel “I Can Be a Frog,” which is impossible to hear without thinking of its accompanying video. And while Wayne’s voice has taken a beating over the years, he sings to his strengths and lets the fuzzed-out guitars and vintage electric piano sounds take center stage throughout the disc. In fact, in most cases vocals are mixed about equally with the rest of the instruments, avoiding pop melodies and song structure altogether.

This very well could be the greatest album the Flaming Lips have concocted to date, though there’s so much happening here that it might take a few years to sink in. The Soft Bulletin and Yoshimi Battles the Pink Robots can retain popular favor in the meantime, but Embryonic is bound to fascinate and confound for years to come. (Warner Bros. 2009)

The Flaming Lips MySpace
Click to buy Embryonic from Amazon

Rain Machine: Rain Machine


RIYL: TV on the Radio, Animal Collective, Akron/Family

Enter the mind of Kyp Malone with Rain Machine, the new solo project of the booming-voiced TV on the Radio guitarist and co-frontman. The album cover bursts with bright colors and naked girls, leading the listener to believe there is a Dionysian sort of feast within. And is there ever, with Malone cutting loose with claps, whistles and bells throughout the album’s seemingly massive length.

The god of ritual madness and ecstasy would surely appreciate the content, with Malone sparing no appropriateness to sing about being a “Desperate Bitch,” or having “the fattest cock or the sweetest pussy.” Indulgence abounds on Rain Machine, in ways good and bad – of the 10 tracks, six of them hover above the five-minute mark, meaning there are some eye-rolling, “Okay, this song could be over,” moments. Then there’s the joyousness of “Give Blood” and “Hold You Holy.” The second half of the album transitions from the cacophony of paeans to love and politics into quiet, lightly strummed desperation. That does just fine for “Driftwood Heart” and “Desperate Bitch” but after “Free Ride” and “Leave The Lights On,” you keep hoping he’ll get back to being rambunctious. The closing track, “Winter Songs,” gets there at times, but at 10 minutes long, it’s hard to get more than five minutes in.

Malone’s mind is an intense place, but worth the journey. As for how listenable it is, those inclined towards extravagance may find something to appreciate here, but those whose motto is “everything in moderation,” would do best to look elsewhere. (Anti, 2009)

Rain Machine MySpace page

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