THE BLUES MAGOOS: PSYCHEDELIC RESURRECTION (2014)
1) Psychedelic Resurrection;
2) There's A Chance We Can Make It; 3) We Ain't Got Nothin' Yet; 4) D'Stinko Me
Tummy's On The Blinko; 5) There She Goes; 6) I'm Still Playing; 7) Pipe Dream;
8) Gotta Get Away; 9) I Just Got Off From Work; 10) Rush Hour; 11)
Psyche-Delight; 12) Tobacco Road.
Apparently, history has judged that The Blues
Magoos were a force to be reckoned
with back in the old days — otherwise, even the band members themselves
probably wouldn't come up with the idea of a reunion. But reunite they did, if
only on a partial basis, with Ralph Scala, Peppy Castro, and drummer Geoff
Daking formerly justifying the resurrection of the band's name, and two new
members (Mike Ciliberto on guitar and Peter Stuart Kohman on bass) completing
the picture as the band began a regular touring program... and in 2014,
actually emerged with a new album, most arrogantly called Psychedelic Resurrection — because, as everybody (at least in the
Bronx area) knows, real psychedelia
died in 1968 with the passing of the original Blues Magoos, and could only be
resurrected if the original Blues Magoos got together.
And you know what? They might be right about
that — well, hyperboles aside, and also keeping in mind that the band was never
really that big a symbol for psychedelia in the first place, Psychedelic Resurrection is
surprisingly effective. Yes, it is true that 7 out of 12 songs are re-recordings
of their classic hits and personal favorites — but, first of all, we would have
already forgotten how most of them sounded like anyway, and, second, they are
so cleverly interspersed with the new compositions that the record never for
once gives the impression of a pitiful collection of remakes. Somehow, despite
occasional embarrassing moments, Psychedelic
Resurrection turns out to be one of those very, very rare cases when the
word «resurrection» is actually justified.
I am not sure how they managed to do it, but
this new material is real fun — apart from having very little to do with
psychedelia, it's a solid collection of pop-rock songs with true hooks and
plenty of kickass energy. You can certainly detect some age-related wear and
tear, most notably on Scala's vocals (that sound almost pitiably feeble and
whiny on the new recording of ʽWe Ain't Got Nothin' Yetʼ), but the new (and
probably much younger) guitarist compensates for that by playing with verve and
inspiration, all the while adhering to the sonic stylistics of the Blues
Magoos' original era rather than «modern» guitar playing... well, maybe not in
the opening bars of the title track, though, where he sets off a bunch of
fireworks that would feel more suitable on a Van Halen album.
But do not worry, that's just a bit of initial
excess, quickly forgiven by the overall weirdness of the track — technically, it
is supposed to be an arena-rock anthem celebrating the band's comeback, yet
the slow pace, the doom-laden keyboards, and the strangely soulful, almost
mournful vocals give the impression of a pack of zombies rising from the grave,
so, on one hand, it's cool to hear them intone "we're back again... like
an old friend!", but on the other hand, there's that strange green tinge
on the faces and the definite smell of freshly overturned earth that puts the
"join us now!.." admonition in a somewhat different light. I wonder
if that was intentional, or if it just came out that way? In either case, it
adds a drop of much-needed genuine weirdness to the whole thing, immediately
elevating it over the expected status of a «just another boring comeback»
record.
The rest of the new material is equally
striking in its diversity. There's ʽD'Stinko Me Tummy's On The Blinkoʼ, a
verse-bridge-chorus anthem to various types of indigestion (hardly a very
psychedelic subject, although, admittedly, you never really know when problems
with your food tract may lead to potentially psychedelic reactions) — lyrically
crude, but the chorus has an almost vile degree of catchiness. ʽI'm Still
Playingʼ borrows a big chunk of the riff to ʽAll Day And All Of The Nightʼ, but
spices it up with fine lead guitar overdubs and a nice ecstatic build-up to the
chorus (again, on the subject of the band's tenacity). ʽI Just Got Off From
Workʼ is a perfectly unpretentious chunk of power-pop that never strays off too
far away from expressing delight at what its title is all about. And
ʽPsyche-Delightʼ, despite a whiff of corniness, is cast as one of those
«proto-disco» numbers (like ʽFunʼ from Sly & The Family Stone's Life album), combining even more
reminiscences about the good old Sixties with a hard rock tone from the
mid-Seventies and a bit of discoish hedonism from about the same time — I don't
know if I'm committing a crime against good taste by recommending it, but apart
from the rather ugly vocals on the bridge section, it's gut-level fun, if not
necessarily a «psyche-delight» as they advertise it.
As for the old stuff, particularly the extended
workouts like ʽTobacco Roadʼ and ʽRush Hourʼ that were very much dependent on
garage-psychedelic jamming, all I can say is — these boys still got it. They do
it a little differently and without a fresh feel of amazement at the new
possibilities, but the rocking bits, particularly on ʽTobacco Roadʼ, still rock harder than most of the new
rock bands do — perhaps because they feel so unburdened with decades of
intellectual pressure on the unfortunate rocker. In other words, there's lots
of brawn here, and only a tiny modicum of brain, and that happens to be
admirable. I mean, come to think of it, how many of your favourite artists would
be brave enough to release a song about the simple pains of indigestion as late
as 2014 — and considering, too, that indigestion as a problem has never really
gone away in all that time? The overall slogan of the album is neatly
summarized in the pseudo-reprise of the title track at the end of ʽRush Hourʼ:
"Psychedelic resurrection / Gives me such a big erection". Really,
this album is not about much more than that,
and besides, if psychedelic resurrection can still give Ralph Scala a big
erection in 2014 (he must be around 70, no?), there's just nothing to do except
give the record an admiring thumbs up. If only every «Veterans' Ball» were like this, we might want to change that
slogan to «don't trust anybody under
30», eventually.
That slogan is a motto of mine and has been for most of my life. Youth is wasted on the young.
ReplyDeleteDidn't they borrow the chorus to 'Got Off From Work' from Macca's 'Ever Present past'?
ReplyDelete