John Kongos - Kongos

The Happy Mondays' Pills 'n' Thrills and Bellyaches is one of my favorite albums and never fails to put me in a good mood.  But I hadn't really gotten into other bands of the same era and feel, so I wanted to search for some of their influences instead.  The Mondays covered at least two John Kongos songs that appear on this album.  

This album sounds like some pretty talented studio / session players (essentially Elton John's band at the time) dragged their instruments out to the woods, overloaded on really fantastic drugs, and tried to find Jesus.  It's no wonder the Happy Mondays like this guy so much.  You could spend a career trying to hit the same highs Kongos does.

movin' on up

I don't think about albums in this way as much as I used to, but if I were to list my favorite albums Of All Time and compare that to what the list might've been a year or two ago, two albums would've moved up into the top tier: Nilsson's Schmilsson and Robert Wyatt's Rock Bottom.

Nilsson was someone I only discovered this year, but I've been listening to Wyatt / Soft Machine for over a decade. I'd be doing pretty well if each year I found one or two more top-tier albums.

David Axelrod - Earth Rot

No, not that David Axelrod. The one who produced and composed some pretty fantastic music in the '60s and '70s, working with Lou Rawls, Cannonball Adderley, the Electric Prunes, and many more. His first two solo albums, Songs of Innocence and Songs of Experience, still sound fresh. The break-beat rhythm style he favored became staples for crate-diggers like DJ Shadow; listen to "Holy Thursday" and you'll hear the foundation of the future of hip-hop.

So his third album, Earth Rot, is a bit of a weird turn. Labeled as "a musical statement on the state of the environment," it's basically an album about environmental destruction--the first side is about warnings, the second about the signs themselves. The music here is amazing. It's jazzy, it's funky, the arrangements are amazing, it's all very fluid; parts of it I like even better than his first two albums.

But there's a catch, and that happens to be a choir that delivers the vocals. Lordy, they are annoying. Just when you start to enjoy the music, the choir comes in, singing about the decaying environment: "There! Is! A! Grow! Ing! Rahhh! Tennnnn! Nesssssss!"

I so wish there was an instrumental version of this album; it would be really phenomenal. As it is, the vocals are just too distracting and I can't get past them.



Allmusic characterizes this as 'obscuro'--a label they also applied to Bill Holt's Dreamies. I imagine I'll be checking out a few more obscuro albums in the near future.

Pretty Things - SF Sorrow

Who could ever have thought, going back to the Pretty Things' first recording session in 1965 -- which started out so disastrously that their original producer quit in frustration -- that it would come to this? The Pretty Things' early history in the studio featured the band with its amps seemingly turned up to 11, but for much of S.F. Sorrow the band is turned down to seven or four, or even two, or not amplified at all (except for Wally Allen's bass -- natch), and they're doing all kinds of folkish things here that are still bluesy enough so you never forget who they are, amid weird little digressions on percussion and chorus; harmony vocals that are spooky, trippy, strange, and delightful; sitars included in the array of stringed instruments; and an organ trying hard to sound like a Mellotron. Sometimes one gets an echo of Pink Floyd's Piper at the Gates of Dawn or A Saucerful of Secrets, and it all straddles the worlds of British blues and British psychedelia better than almost any record you can name. The album, for those unfamiliar, tells the story of "S.F. Sorrow," a sort of British Everyman -- think of a working-class, luckless equivalent to the Kinks' Arthur, from cradle to grave. The tale and the songs are a bit downbeat and no amount of scrutiny can disguise the fact that the rock opera S.F. Sorrow is ultimately a bit of a confusing effort -- these boys were musicians, not authors or dramatists. Although it may have helped inspire Tommy, it is, simply, not nearly as good. That said, it was first and has quite a few nifty ideas and production touches. And it does show a pathway between blues and psychedelia that the Rolling Stones, somewhere between Satanic Majesties, "We Love You," "Child of the Moon," and Beggars Banquet, missed entirely.

(Pretty Things - SF Sorrow)

Linda Perhacs - Parallelograms

The history of rock music is filled with one-hit wonders and debut albums left without a follow-up. Most of those just had the fate they deserved, some were the results of early disbanding or mismanagement. Linda Perhacs' Parallelograms belongs to none of those categories. The singer/songwriter spent all her inspiration on this gem, simple as that. It sits there on the shelf, a life's compendium, stunning in its beauty and the fact that no later albums can frame it in a historical context, or diminish its impact. Softer, less declamatory than Joan Baez, more daring than Joni Mitchell, Perhacs' songs are psychedelic on a daily, domestic basis. Originally released in 1970, the album had been lifted from the LP and reissued on CD by The Wild Places in 1996. Informed by the female singer/songwriters of the late '60s, and the sonic experiments of the West Coast psychedelic scene (just listen to the title track, its abstract lyrics and beautiful, intertwined atonal melodies), Perhacs has created 40 minutes of music out of time.

(Linda Perhacs - Parallelograms)

Roy Harper - Stormcock

Roy Harper achieved some acclaim with releases like his debut, Sophisticated Beggar, and Flat Baroque and Berserk, but 1971's Stormcock was his first effort that was a fully realized success. Even though all four long songs on the record were arguably superior in subsequent live versions, this is one of only a handful of Harper's albums that has no weak cuts. "Hors d'Oeuvres" had been previewed two years earlier in a faster incarnation, but this version is pleasingly lethargic in a way much like Pink Floyd's "Fearless." "The Same Old Rock" is an extended musical poem about the narrow-mindedness of organized religion and features several movements, including one of Jimmy Page's best solos, even though the notes list Page as S. Flavius Mercurius. After the strangely melodic "One Man Rock and Roll Band," the album ends with the grand "Me and My Woman." This version, while slower than the definitive live take from Flashes From the Archives of Oblivion, features lush orchestration by David Bedford. All four lyrics could stand on their own, showing Harper's vision to be much more profound than the typical stoned poet. His musicianship on acoustic guitar is revelatory, at once thoughtful and hard-edged. Stormcock, in fact, epitomized a hybrid genre that had no exclusive purveyors save Harper -- epic progressive acoustic. In this style, Harper amalgamated the best elements of associates Pink Floyd, Led Zeppelin, and folk artists like Bert Jansch into a winning stew of thought-provoking acoustic music. Harper dabbled in this style with mostly good results for the rest of his career, but never again would one of his albums exclusively have these type of songs on it. Stormcock represents a truly original vision comprised of oft-heard parts rarely assembled and therefore is on par with other heavyweights from the class of 1971 such as Led Zeppelin IV or Meddle.

(Roy Harper - Stormcock)

The Zombies - Odessey and Oracle

Odessey and Oracle was one of the flukiest (and best) albums of the 1960s, and one of the most enduring long-players to come out of the entire British psychedelic boom, mixing trippy melodies, ornate choruses, and lush Mellotron sounds with a solid hard rock base. But it was overlooked completely in England and barely got out in America (with a big push by Al Kooper, who was then a Columbia Records producer); and it was neglected in the U.S. until the single "Time of the Season," culled from the album, topped the charts nearly two years after it was recorded, by which time the group was long disbanded. Ironically, at the time of its recording in the summer of 1967, permanency was not much on the minds of the bandmembers. Odessey and Oracle was intended as a final statement, a bold last hurrah, having worked hard for three years only to see the quality of their gigs decline as the hits stopped coming. The results are consistently pleasing, surprising, and challenging: "Hung Up on a Dream" and "Changes" are some of the most powerful psychedelic pop/rock ever heard out of England, with a solid rhythm section, a hot Mellotron sound, and chiming, hard guitar, as well as highly melodic piano. "Changes" also benefits from radiant singing. "This Will Be Our Year" makes use of trumpets (one of the very few instances of real overdubbing) in a manner reminiscent of "Penny Lane"; and then there's "Time of the Season," the most well-known song in their output and a white soul classic. Not all of the album is that inspired, but it's all consistently interesting and very good listening, and superior to most other psychedelic albums this side of the Beatles' best and Pink Floyd's early work. Indeed, the only complaint one might have about the original LP is its relatively short running time, barely over 30 minutes, but even that's refreshing in an era where most musicians took their time making their point, and most of the CD reissues have bonus tracks to fill out the space available.

(The Zombies - Odessey and Oracle)

Walter Wegmuller - Tarot

This massive double album is cosmic Krautrock at its finest hour, as visionary Walter Wegmuller leads a tour through the entire major arcane of the Tarot deck while the Cosmic Couriers -- basically Ash Ra Tempel, Wallenstein, and whoever else producer Rolf-Ulrich Kaiser could rope in -- create a remarkable soundtrack encompassing space rock, folk music, funk, psychedelia, and electronic music. Wegmuller's album followed in the footsteps of Timothy Leary's Seven Up, Ash Ra Tempel, and Sergius Golowin's Lord Krishna von Goloka, backed by Wallenstein, the duo Westripp-Witthuser, and keyboardist Klaus Schulze. Tarot, with almost all these musicians on the roster, is the culmination, a bizarre roller coaster ride through sonic soundscapes, while Wegmuller intones in his deep voice, sometimes augmented by more effects, though he often remains silent for long instrumental stretches. From the opening track, a funky number with blazing guitar and rolling piano over which a circus-barker voice announces the band with grand élan, to the side four track's nonstop blast into hallucinogenic after-burn, this one is a monster all the way. Shimmering Ash Ra Tempel guitar freakouts blend with Wallenstein's more rollicking psych rock, Schulze's deep space keyboards, and Westripp's cosmic folk to create strange blitzes of electronic weirdness. This album provide an incredible pallet of styles that all seem to gel in a cohesive mass of pure mystical wonder.

(Walter Wegmuller - Tarot)

The United States of America - The United States of America

Despite releasing only one LP, the United States of America was among the most revolutionary bands of the late '60s -- grounded equally in psychedelia and the avant-garde, their music eschewed guitars in favor of strings, keyboards and haunting electronics, predating the ambient pop of the modern era by several decades. The group's lone self-titled LP, produced by David Rubinson, was recorded for CBS in 1968, its unique ambience due largely to their pioneering use of the ring modulator, a primitive synthesizer later popularized by the Krautrock sound.

Originally released on Columbia in 1968, The United States of America is one of the legendary pure psychedelic space records. Some of the harder-rocking tunes have a fun house recklessness that recalls aspects of early Pink Floyd and the Velvet Underground at their freakiest; the sedate, exquisitely orchestrated ballads, especially "Cloud Song" and the wonderfully titled "Love Song for the Dead Che," are among the best relics of dreamy psychedelia. Occasionally things get too excessive and self-conscious, and the attempts at comedy are a bit flat, but otherwise this is a near classic.

(The United States of America - The United States of America)

Todd Rundgren - A Wizard, A True Star

Undoubtedly the best album I discovered this year; it now reigns as one of my favorite listening experiences. Stick with it! --slowen

Something/Anything? proved that Todd Rundgren could write a pop classic as gracefully as any of his peers, but buried beneath the surface were signs that he would never be satisfied as merely a pop singer/songwriter. A close listen to the album reveals the eccentricities and restless spirit that surges to the forefront on its follow-up, A Wizard, a True Star. Anyone expecting the third record of Something/Anything?, filled with variations on "I Saw the Light" and "Hello It's Me," will be shocked by A Wizard. As much a mind-f*ck as an album, A Wizard, a True Star rarely breaks down to full-fledged songs, especially on the first side, where songs and melodies float in and out of a hazy post-psychedelic mist. Stylistically, there may not be much new -- he touched on so many different bases on Something/Anything? that it's hard to expand to new territory -- but it's all synthesized and assembled in fresh, strange ways. Often, it's a jarring, disturbing listen, especially since Rundgren's humor has turned bizarre and insular. It truly takes a concerted effort on the part of the listener to unravel the record, since Rundgren makes no concessions -- not only does the soul medley jerk in unpredictable ways, but the anthemic closer, "Just One Victory," is layered with so many overdubs that it's hard to hear its moving melody unless you pay attention. And that's the key to understanding A Wizard, a True Star -- it's one of those rare rock albums that demands full attention and, depending on your own vantage, it may even reward such close listening.

(Todd Rundgren - A Wizard, A True Star)