...they enjoy parading their preference for the psychedelic and stoner, they sing “’68, ‘69, ‘70, ‘71, ‘72”, and the girl singers voice is coy, pitched carefully between some folksy Sandy Denny-ish chant and or a choirgirl take on White Rabbit.
Interesting stuff, not grabbing on first play, but after a while this record has that irritating ability to nag away at you, and the ideas and attitudes in the songs are well expressed: the cover of Jonny Richman’s Old World is brilliantly done: no band I can think of at the moment has been so explicit about showing their love for that late 60's rock past in this frank, matter of fact, “stick it on the nature table and show the class” way. Now and again the dreamy Espers-style reflections ( a bit pastoral, all very mellifluous and sweet) blossom out into nice loud free for all’s, which do lift tracks like but Black Flower and Zabriskie.
So, we can ascertain then that the band are in love with a past with hippy accoutrements, that fabled “other country”… they enjoy parading their preference for the psychedelic and stoner, they sing “’68, ‘69, ‘70, ‘71, ‘72”, and the girl singers voice is coy, pitched carefully between some folksy Sandy Denny-ish chant and or a choirgirl take on White Rabbit. Oh and covering the Third Ear Band gives the game away as well. So yes, saying things like this is okay and doubtless not jumping out at you the reader as something worth checking out, but this record does provide moments that prove addictive, such as repeat listening to sub-Amon Düül 2 plods like Metal Terrapin.
Now and again things can be a bit clumpy, the segue from “slow bit” to “fast bit” on Spirit Broken doesn’t do it for this pair of ears it must be said, but these moments are rare and things as camp and trippy as Kosmonaut (the vox coming on like My Judas Lover from Ceramic Hobs) deserve to be played. And PSK for its part is a great “fol de rol” slice of hippy folk aided by a soaring vocal and attractive guitar part. Fleance is a fuller, more mercurial take on the serious original too. The record ends on something more meaty: Undulating Blue is a marvellous pagan wig-out, replete with jagged guitar runs, a never-ending bass part and tripped out vocals.
Very enjoyable and reeking of patchouli oil.