...who'da thought that twenty five years down th'pike that this combo still be puttin out wax(not even countin th'myriad side projects)that had more than some kinda passin interest,if that, cos when a cat gets to thinkin whos list'nin with any serious intent to later date gear by anyone been in th'biz over two half decades?(zimmerman came back but only after he stopped list'nin to technology 'experts''n went back to basics with those 'basement tapes' style covers LPs in th'early nineties)...indeed th'youth once again jump into th'dune buggy'n head off for th'youngsian desert to commune with ancient rockroll spirits crazy horse'n th'peyote sage neil...they soak in th'desert vibes that time cant fade away'n then head on over for velvets town to pick up th'secret trance-thud that is only known to true beleivers...on th'way back to th'city they notice'n stop at a mom-pop shop'n grab a coupla hooks to hang th'new toons on, then stoppin at th'hardware store they pick a fresh mangle to feed their strings thru givin th'proceedins a nice hazy smear o' warm claustrophobia...th'resultin wax is then sprinkled with mild shoe-gazer gravy with echoes dropped in from a faraway floydian galaxy...late night list'nin when th'familiar key will unlock th'unknown door...

...theres a real goodly amount o' tape hiss goin down here that its like a real groovey time list'nin to some cool illicit biskit put out back in th'day by cats like th'TMOQ/RUBBA DUBBA bootleg crews...taped at a gig in 87 just before they became 'big' with college geeks it starts off like lou reed jammin with early television...crunchy electric shafts o'piercin noise come crashin out like some spazzed demented avant metal from th'mid seventies cleveland underground clubs...heavy underwater torpedos o' skrunk slashin away lettin loose floods o'squeel all over that NO-Wave pulse...about a third o' th'way in theres a bubblin o' 79 new-wavery filtered thru th'sonic multi-quadrangler to become somethang akin to th'funhouse stooges blasted thru a gauze o' methad(r)one...some dodgy stereo blackouts give it all another dimension possibly that o' syd barrett on a spiked mandrax fit lurchin into th'darkness...by trk seven th'sonix-trip-party(STP)is well under way with kim comin on strong like lydia lunch on a heavy crack pipe...followin this thy lock into a mad kinda voodoo syncopation hypnotic blur'n staight into more iggy/dolls twisted gutter gunk...th'later part o' th'voyage must start with trk11(death valley 69)which is a total mind-wreck o' healter skelter creepy crawlin 'n after a short rockin blast from kim its back in th'dunes buggys to th'manson desert for some primal attackin 'on th'beach' style youngsian drone noise...th'encorin last numbers're a tribute to th'ramones with four o' da bruddas toon raced out like th'punk poundin on th'dangerhouse label...th'whole shebang from th'murky hiss/basement groove to th'avant wired pummelin is a great reminder o' th'first era o' th'youth, th'amphetamine shrieks o' power flame throwers before th'suits tried to move in to tell them what to do'n how to do it, basically tryin to ruin th'groovey...

...any older layabouts who kinda lost interest in this combo after daydream nation'n thought th'nineties for th'youth was all about tryin to re-invent that double disk might wanna check this boot out right quick...taped at a gig in germany 96 this silver disk has a slovenly basement groove meanderin all thru it bringin on th'whole history o'psychodelic street level rock'rollin...kickin off with their (college) hit'teenage riot' givin it some neil young whine over a pop crazy horse, (this is th'toon when first released in 88 got th'band plaudits from trendy mags(SPIN etc) as 'godfathers o' grunge''n other such geegaws o'wrongheaded lazy journalism)...trk three is where this biskit is startin to move into th'area that is th'sonix real home, th'plateau where th'continuin story o' psychodelic rockin is bein written, this time by a NO-Wave tribal hawkwind meet television on a bad trip...'washin machine' comes rollin in next 'n this sure some build up o' dimensions equaled only by cats such as pere ubu/stooges/velvets/69/70 floyd with its intense trance o' squeely tones pummellin ever onward...other trx give off short bursts o' trainwreck-corkscrew'd 'grunge' in varyin degrees o' trippiness'n its like th'neil young 73/75 period when th'drugs were bein consumed in hero like proportions'n th'music was showin th'results o' such hot wirin(time fades away/beach/tonights.../zuma)'n still th'acid-NO-Wave beat continues...th'twisted journey eventually ends up in a twenty minit krautrock/pink floyd landscape with clouds o' murky haze smear'd across it'n still th'NO-Wave pulse moves on thru...for maximum use this joint should be played on stun with th'appropriate pharmaceuticals close at hand...

spend some time with this true original

...first release on dandelion for this duo o' folk bloozers who put out some snap boogie trance for th'underground head scene back in th'day...john played guitar/drum/cymbal'n peter played harmonica/jews harp/mouth bow plus sundary percussion'n between th'two o' 'em they brought alive th'travellin 'one man band' that appear throughout blooz history on th'lonesome dirt roads between clarksdale'n chicago...th'slow velvets moe tucker pulsebeat, th'same beat o' th'earth gradually turnin thru each day'n season'n year underlines th'essential bein o' th'medicine head groove, th'ancient drum that calls th'faithful to partake in th'ceremony o' life, to keep on keepin on thru th'good'n th'bad...th'blooz that leaks from back street pubs'n workin-mens clubs o'ol'britannia with its salt o' th'earth spirituality is all over this wax takin th'list'ner on some kinda journey o' th'soul, a cleansin, washin away th'square world'n its persistant bad karma tryin to snuff th'spark o' free will from th'good'n true everywhere...also they kick up a coupla stormin rent party choogle with th'drum poundin'n th'amped up harp blowin layin down th'funky vibrations that just keep rollin on down th'highway...

...this is one massive stoned groove from front to back, acid damaged psyched out freekin o' th'first order...everythang that was happ'nin in 67 is somewhere on this wax, from free spirit jazz trumpet to left banke harpsichord, from odes to th'sacred trip to anti war sentiments all rollin one after th'other'n nothin is outta place, it just molds itself into one complete whole, a suite to th' times, it catches th'moment perfectly...th'psychedelic vibes that was emanatin from th'fab4 durin summer 67 hangs over this but nothin is copped outright, they're just goin with th'flow...if'n these cats had stayed together they'd got down with a totally wig liftin concept wax that would stopped all other concept disks from comin out, there'd be no point cos these flipsters already done it...there'd be no need for vanilla fudges heavy handed ideas after th'first LP thats for sure'n no real need for 'tommy' cos townshend already did it himself on 'quick one..'...brings to mind th'fabulous C.A quintet on a bigger budget'n van dyke parks art-pop moves'n th'title trk is a stupendous cop o' th'country joe first album with that unmistakable organ sound...a solid groove that not too many ever really captured without it all comin on false,(over orchestrated/bad keyboard blooz jams)this is just soundin natural like it should...