Like, wow. Instead of that feeling you get, like, somebody else got to the thrift sale before you did and now the perfect jacket is priced way too high in the vintage shop, here are albums full of groovy rescued music from the sonic peaks of the past. Someone else got there first but now theyre sharing it with you.
I came across the Wayfaring Strangers label because of a new compilation they done put out. Cosmic American Music: Motel California is music from what they call private country-rock and they say Gram Parsons called country-rock plastic dry-fuck. Whatever it is its pretty laidback stuff, which twangs and soars to produce vague pastoral bliss in the listener.
Theres a previous volume which does the same kinda thing, as does an anthology riffing on Joni and all those other dames hanging out on the borders of Los Angeles or further out in forgotten California. Ladies From The Canyon not only steals its title but presents would be Joni clones prettily spilling the beans on their emotions and feelings, even the weather. Carla Sciaky claims And I A Fairytale Lady whilst Becky Severon says she is following A Special Path. Fair enough but elsewhere the others here are moodily singing about Rain, Windows, Eternal Life and Sunlight Shadows. Susan Pilsbury claims she Never Said Goodbye but maybe she wasn’t listening. Pay attention at the back!
Mind you, it is better than the Seafaring Strangers album which claims to present Yacht Rock, whatever that means. It seems to be a new name for middle of the road shit because that’s what it is. Im surprised the musicians could stay awake let alone anyone listening. The titles and the music are all loveydovey declarations and romantic memories. How Long Has It Been? asks Damon Danielson. Not fucking long enough. These people need to take advice from Chuck Senrick who says Don’t Be So Nice.
The best albums here arent nice at all. Darkscorch Canticles has a really shit cover but some rocking tunes from an assortment of bands who wanna be Led Zep or Back Sabbath. Theyre not but they can try and they produce some groovy stuff in the process. Inside sing about the Wizzard King at high speed, Medusas wizard is a Black Wizard, Wraths a Warlord, whilst Stonehenge introduce the King Of The Golden Hall. Triton Warrior are Sealed In A Grave but still play on. Ripoff merchants have never worn their influences so openly nor sounded so good. The singers all sound stoned, half of them can’t really sing, the music stops and starts, its all rent a riff and simplistic drums that make Ringo seem talented. Theres Space Rock in the mix, too. Its a great collection of riffing and soloing with wailing vocals, all run through effects pedals at forgotten music studios.
In contrast, the guitars on Guitar Soli are trippy, played to expand your mind and take you someplace else. Here are ragas and improvisations, bent notes galore, eerie overtones and echoing mind games. Its fab but not as fab as Acid Nightmares, which has not only the best music but the best cover which does what the title says as a demon biker rides out of a teknicolor hell.
And thats what most of the music is like too, deranged devil music for acid fried stoners intent on headbanging there way to the afterlife. Theres a Prayer Of Despair to help them on their way, not to mention Drugs and Speed and songs about Digging Graves and Black Lightning. Times Up declare TNS whilst Sunn Cycle offer up a mindbending Acid Raga to send us on our way to hell. This is a great selection of scuzzy druggy music which appears to be made by deranged psychopaths intent on fucking themselves up along with anyone who listens. Count me in. I wanna bask in the Orange Sunshine and let my brain evaporate some more.
Johnny Doomsday Brainstorm