MIND DE-CODER 104
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For Stefan, however I might find him
MORE EXPERIENCE THE TWILIGHT (LUNATIC SPACE DIARY)
THE FUGS EXORCISING THE EVIL SPIRITS FROM THE
PENTAGON, OCT. 21, 1967
JULIAN COPE NED KELLY DAWN (excerpt)
ANTON BARBEAU JULIAN COPE
ANDY BELL THE SKY WITHOUT YOU
THE CHEMISTRY SET LOVELY CUPPA TEA
ELMER GANTRY’S VELVET
OPERA DREAM STARTS
AYSHEA MR WHITE’S FLYING MACHINE
I have this drift off into the last few moments of the third movement of Chopin’s Piano Sonata No. 2 (otherwise known as Marche Funèbre) played backwards, which sounds suitably psychedelic…
MORT GARSON CATHEDRAL OF PLEASURE
ASTREL K IS IT IT OR IS IT I?
GWENNO TRESOR
MORE EXPERIENCE THE TRIP
The Trip pretty much does what it says on the label - and
when the spoken word intro appears, delivered by a character who goes by the
name of Eryk Paluch: “There’s so much to explore in your imagination, you’ll
make a trip among the nebulas and stars…”, you’ll think you’re listening to
the voice of God, or possibly a down-at-the heel shaman, reduced to hanging
around drafty bus-shelters in Northampton bumming fags*, and drunk on cheap White Lightning
(whichever image serves you best). Poland’s More Experience combine lysergic
guitars with spoken word passages, field and space recordings, Canterbury
stylings and kosmische ambience on their album ELECTRIC LABORATORY OF HIGH SPACE EXPERIENCE, and the effect is verily a
trip unto itself. Tellingly, it was released on Old Hippie Records last year.
A short piece, lasting no
more than 28 seconds, National Haiku Contest, a teenager's surreal haiku
in response to an unwanted pregnancy, is taken from side two of The Fugs’
second release in 1968, IT CRAWLED INTO MY HAND, HONEST. In fact, side two of
the album is entirely made up of this sort of thing: a strange sound collage of
songs and vocal snippets with segments ranging from four minutes to 15 seconds,
making for a disjointed and surreal listening experience. Clearly there was
something in the water at the time, as The Mother’s of Invention and The Holy
Modal Rounders, who pretty much made up the more musically accomplished half of
The Fugs, were doing similar things with their own releases, as if a
traditional suite of songs was no longer able to do justice to the explosion of
counter-cultural tensions that defined that year. I’ve been listening to The
Fugs a lot, lately, because this year seems no less insane, in it’s own way,
and they very nearly make sense of it.
JOHN MYRTLE BALLAD OF THE RAIN
DANA GILLESPIE SOUVENIRS OF STEFAN
JULIAN COPE SLOW STRASBOURG
Lately, Cope (or Copey, or
the Arch-Drude, whichever you prefer) has taken to releasing a series of albums which document and otherwise shine a
light on key releases in his back-catalogue. Called COPE’S NOTES, the CDs are
accompanied by a beautifully produced booklet and include previously unreleased
tracks, demos and spoken word pieces taken from Cope’s autobiography ‘Head-On/Repossessed’.
The booklet includes handwritten lyrics, poems,
photographs and a memoir in the form of a lengthy essay that discusses the
period in question. Amongst fans of Julian Cope these are considered highly
desirable artefacts. The first of these releases focussed on The Teardrop
Explodes, the second features the story behind his cult release DROOLIAN, the
third, released a few weeks ago, tells the story of his debut solo album WORLD
SHUT YOUR MOUTH, released in 1984. It includes, on the accompanying CD, this
track, Slow Strasbourg, a previously unreleased track which has really
grown on me and gives you an idea of what these releases are all about. Cope
hopes to release a COPE’S NOTES for all of his previous releases, but given
they now number in the 50s that might be a bit optimistic. Still, fingers
crossed.
ADVISORY CIRCLE JUST A DREAM
This is the track that
plays beneath the spoken word piece I have playing. It’s one of two tracks I’ve
pulled from the album FULL CIRCLE, released earlier this year by Cate Brooks in
her guise as the slightly sinister but mostly benign Advisory Circle, whose
previous releases have come to be defined by the Ghost Box hauntological aesthetic.
This, her most recent release, actually sheds much of what I’ve come to enjoy
as the Ghost Box whimsy - instead of disembodied voices we are presented with
retro-futuristic synth pieces that owe more to 80s than the 70s and, whilst
this is a completely recognizable direction for your hauntologically-inspired
musicians to take, I miss the disembodied voices, me. Still there were hints of
old-school hauntology hidden within the album - Just A Dream employs the
sort disorientating undertones I was looking for and it doesn’t disappoint.
RJ MCKENDREE BOG ASPHODEL
Earlier this year, English author Tom Cox - who writes about folklore, rambling, wildlife, psychedelic music, local history and golf - published his first novel, ‘Villager’. Its setting is the fictional village of Underhill and the West Country moorland that surrounds it, and its chapters tell the story of the village and its inhabitants, with tales stretching from prehistory to 2099 - to give you an idea of what the book is like, one of the narrators is the spirit of the moorland itself, which stands as a silent witness to the goings on of the villagers across the centuries. One such tale centres on RJ McKendree, an American musician who moves to the village in 1968 and records a haunting set of acid-folk songs before vanishing into myth and legend, whose tale surfaces again and again throughout the novel. The author gave the book to a talented musician friend and asked him to record what he imagined this album would sound like. The musician friend, visionary multi-instrumentalist, guitar builder, and producer Will Twynham, who records psychedelic rock under the name Dimorphodons, presented Cox with an album that sounded as every bit as mysterious and magical as the music Cox had in his head while writing the story of the enigmatic RJ Mckendree and the album he recorded. The album was named WALLFLOWER, and while it purports to be one of the great lost classic acid-folk albums of the sixties, you can buy the book and the CD and enjoy the two together. I love stuff like this.
JULIAN COPE I KNOW WHAT IT’S LIKE TO BE BELIEVED
For the last few years
Julian Cope appears to have been involved in a long running dispute with a
neighbour which, for legal reasons he was unable to comment on, but which seems
to have been resolved successfully in Cope’s favour, resulting in the song I
Know What It’s Like To Be Believed, which you can find on his most recent
album proper, ENGLAND EXPECTORATES, which was released earlier this year.
Elsewhere, the album works as something of a state-of-the nation address as
Cope skewers what was then Boris Johnson’s cultural and political landscape,
but which applies equally well to Rishi Sunak’s vision for a Britain united
under a Prime Minister who’s richer than the king but who is admired in Pony
Club circles as one of those dads who stays behind to help put away the jumps
after the riding sessions. By turns angry, cynical and obturate (it includes
the sing-a-long crowd pleaser Cunts Can Fuck Off) it’s also surprisingly
poppy, but unlikely to win him any new fans. Just as well he’s got so many old
ones, then.
GAZ HUNTER ELLESS DEE
You can’t really go wrong
with an album title like LYSERGIC SOUNDSCAPES OF DREAMADELICA - I mean, the
stall is set out right there - but in actual fact, the title is a little
disingenuous, promising much but delivering instead something much more poppy.
Except, and I can’t emphasize this enough, for the rivetting, aptly named Elless
Dee. This track more than lives up to the album’s title, delivering a
proggy flute-driven intro which escalates into a blistering space-rock wig-out
designed to leave a melon-sized grin on your face.
JULIAN COPE KRANKENHAUS - JOKER’S BIRTHDAY DUCK HUNT
The lysergic bard at his
most tripped-out. Once again taken from
last years’ COLD WAR PSYCHEDELIA, this was rescued from a long forgotten play
Copey wrote in Pig German, entitled ‘Die Kankenhaus’. It features three
gentlemen - Krank, Hellmouth and Joker - more ancient than anyone suspects, and
their peculiar adventures. ‘Nuff said.
THE BEATLES TOMORROW NEVER KNOWS (TAKE 1)
Tomorrow Never Knows is arguablly one of the greatest psychedelic tracks ever recorded, but this initial mix, known as Take 1, is in itself, not to be sniffed at. Taken from the
bonus disc which accompanies the recent Giles Martin mix of of The Beatles’
seminal 1966 release REVOLVER it features a tape loop made from a performance
of drums, electric guitar recorded through a rotating Leslie speaker and a
second guitar with fuzz tone. It sounds for all the world like the future
trying to break through from another dimension.
NILSON BRIGG FAIR/A POEM
For his second album,
SCHOOL AND FOREST, the German born musician Nilson, who now resides in Costa
Rica, creates a hauntology-infused, psych folk-tinged hypnogogic soundscape
which strays from the hauntological/wyrd English pathways into Chilean folk
traditions in which the past and the present exist simultaneously. The lovely Brigg
Fair, a traditional English folk song, first sung by the Lincolnshire singer Joseph Taylor in 1905 (but
passed onto him by the King of the Gypsies who taught him the song some time
around the year 1850, folklore fact fans), is given a suitably psychedelic
production as befits the song’s history, and as a result, it shimmers beneath a
lysergic haze which puts the acid back into acid-folk. Likewise, A Poem,
the second track I’ve included from this remarkable album, sounds as if its
being channelled from a lost episode of cult British television series Sapphire
and Steel which, these days, is considered a byword for hauntological wyrdness;
or otherwise discovered on the Jean Ritchie
collection of field recordings, old British ballads, drinking songs, children’s
songs and games, hand bell ringing, dance tunes and folk songs which were
gathered together on the album FIELD TRIP - ENGLAND in the 1950s. Fans of
Broadcast, The Focus Group and, indeed, their collaboration in which they
investigate witch cults of the radio age; early Ghost Box releases in
general; Bert Jansch’s 1971 release
ROSEMARY LANE; and anyone who enjoys repeated viewings of Jonathan Miller’s
production of Alice in Wonderland (which pretty much covers all of this show’s
regular listeners, I should hope) will find that they’re very much at home to
this album - acoustic psych-folk loveliness experienced through the lens of
Radiophonic experimentation. Clever and engaging.
NATHAN HALL AND THE SINISTER
LOCALS SONG FOR JANET MARGOLIN
Something of an earworm, this, but in truth,
all of the tracks on the most recent release from Nathan Hall and those
Sinister Locals of his have a catchy sing-a-long-ability to them that marks
this as one of the best albums he’s produced. GOLDEN FLEECE, released earlier
this year, contains 14 songs of technicolour psychedelia with a heart. Awash
with songs, sounds and lyrics to infuse your day with colour and hope, induce
flashbacks to childhood, lift your mood and transport you around the solar
system from the comfort of your sofa without the need to ingest illegal
substances, although that too is obviously an enviable way to enjoy the album.
The lovely Janet Margolin for whom he so wistfully yearns was a much sought-after
actress in the 1960s who was let down by a studio system who cast her in too
many obligatory romantic leads to allow her to achieve the star status she
deserved (her last film part was a minor role in Ghostbusters II). She died of
cancer, aged 50, in 1993. Song For Janet Margolin will live on,
seemingly forever, in my mind as I hum it as I go about my daily business, so
an immortality of sorts has been gained.
HAIZEA
ARROSA XURIAREN AZPIAN
I remember coming across a documentary once that
charted the progress of language across time and the world as it attempted to
create a sort of ur-language from which all subsequent languages have grown.
The Basque language, it noted, had no known antecedents and existed separate
from the world’s languages as if it came fully formed, or handed down by
aliens. Judging by this song title, you can see what they were getting at. Arrosa
Xuriaren Azpian (my trusty Google translate assures me it means: Under
The White Rose) is taken from the album HONTZ GAUA (NIGHT OWL, btw)
released in 1979 by the Basque acid-folk outfit Haizea (Wind) and is considered
one of the jewels of the progressive European psychedelic folk movement about
which, I confess, I know next to nothing, although, on the strength of this album
alone, it seems to be a genre I really ought to be exploring). I came across
this track on a podcast by the afore mentioned Nilson, and I was so attracted
by its mesmerising ambience I had to fire off a quick email to him enquiring as
to it provenance (fortunately it was played just before Trees’ equally
mesmerising cover of Sally Free And Easy from their second album ON THE
SHORE, so I was at least able to place my request in some kind of context,
otherwise I would have been left floundering). Anyway, I think its gorgeous and
I feel lucky to have come across it. You can find the captivating Nilson mix,
called INTERLUDE, here on Mixcloud. It’s well worth a listen.
MORE EXPERIENCE AT THE GATES OF DAWN (LUNATIC SPACE DIARY)
Serene, sublime, birdsong ambience, which
closes the album ELECTRIC LABORATORY OF HIGH
SPACE EXPERIENCE. A trip completed. Peace is found.
THE FUGS IRENE
I don’t know who Irene is, but they close
their album IT CRAWLED INTO MY HAND, HONEST with this track.
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