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SUUNS
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For Record Store Day 2014, Teeth Of The Sea
(TOTS) released their re-imagined score to
Ben Wheatley’s A Field in England. TOTS have
taken familiar passages from the score in new
directions with their own characteristic sound
and eclectic cast of instruments.
A Field in England is set during the English civil
war and follows Whitehead (Reece Shearsmith) on
his mission to arrest a rogue alchemist named O’Neil
(Michael Smiley). Led from battle in search of a fictional
alehouse, Whitehead and a “merry band” of deserters soon
find that O’Neil has in fact imprisoned them. Captive in a field,
subsisting solely on mushrooms and liquor, their perceptions
become warped as the magic grows stranger and stronger. The
psychedelic drama is set against an ominous soundtrack by Jim
Williams, who TOTS describe as “an incredibly underrated soundtrack
composer”.
The group’s interest in the film is long standing. “We knew about it
before it came out, and we’d all been looking forward to seeing it”, they
recall. So, when Cork Film Festival approached TOTS with a commission, they
confess that they “jumped at the chance”. For them, the soundtrack’s appeal
was that “we were very into the folksy touches and the darker ambient sounds”.
TOTS were conscious of the balance between keeping the re-imagined score
faithful and making it their own. Building upon elements of the original, they explain
“We basically came up with three ideas… jammed them out between ourselves pretty
spontaneously and adapted them as we went along.” The project also led them to
conjure new sounds: “It’s a lot more restrained and pastoral that anything we’ve
done before, which made a nice contrast with the dystopian bombardment of our
last album proper [Master, 2013].” However, no film festival performance would be
complete without visuals. So, collaborator Benjamin Barfoot was on hand to create
an accompanying film piece based on rough demos from the band.
The record’s three tracks are each titled with recognisable lines from the script
and pay homage to distinct elements of the score. Side A is given to ‘Whilst We
Live In Fear of Hell’. Clouds of ambient notes surround distorted trumpet lines,
which periodically subside to introduce a calm and crisp acoustic guitar refrain.
Side B opens with ‘An Ungodly Scheme’. Arpeggios from a lone electric guitar roll
mournfully over a backdrop of feedback, providing an ever-changing yet everfamiliar scene. Next, ‘Open Up and Let the Devil In’ closes the record. This is the
most recognisable of the three, which TOTS describe as “a more electronic version
of the marching theme from the end credits”. It opens with a colossal mass of
drums before introducing the dissonant harpsichord notes of the original score.
The track grows into an asteroid shower of far-flung instruments, marking an
intense climax to the record.
TOTS seem humbled by the support they have received from the original creators
of the film and score, remarking that they have been “very supportive and helpful
throughout”. In fact, Jim Williams and the film’s producer, Andy Starke, flew out to
the Cork performance and the band proudly confirm that “they’ve all got a copy of the
vinyl.” Regarding the Record Store Day release, the band add “It was nice to be a part
of the whole thing as a celebration of record retail.”
Ben Wheatley directed one of the most broadly psycahdelic movies
of recent memory in the shape of 2013’s English Civil War drama
A Field in England. TEETH OF THE SEA were given the honour of
reimagining the raw beauty of the original soundtrack, and spoke
to DAN HUNTER about the creative process behind the project
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Combining pounding rhythms reminiscent of an android
Bill Ward jamming alongside a throbbing wall of
electronic sound of which Conny Plank would no
doubt have been proud to reside over, SUUNS
will make you move. HARRY SWORD asked
them about the primal power of their groove
‘‘The rhythmic thing came out naturally throughout the years. Early on we
realised we wanted to create a real groove within our songs, rather than
having a more structured approach to the writing. I think that came about
with Ben (Shemie, vocals) having not really experienced singing before
– so when you don’t have that vocal drive you can play about with
the rhythms a lot more, jam out on one note…” explains bassist Joe
Yarmush.
Montréal’s Suuns are anything but “one note”, however.
The quartet formed in 2006 and since then have been
experimenting with fractured post-punk dynamics and a
willingness to utilise mind bending studio technology, all
the while underpinned by their trademark pulse.
On debut LP, 2010’s Zero’s QC – Shemie’s lysergic drawl
was used only sparingly, his hushed tones initially
calling to mind the chilly detachment of early ’70s
Velvet Underground, but 2013’s Images Du Futur
saw his vocals take a more prominent role –
alongside a notable kosmiche influence.
‘‘A lot of electronic music influenced us,
from the bottom end, and also the late
’60s/early ’70s Krautrock thing – which
in turn was a huge influence on modern
electronic music. I got into the whole
krautrock thing a bit later on.
You know, I love Can but it’s not
BEN GRAHAM meets Portuguese astral travellers BLACK BOMBAIM
“There’s a very big following right now in Portugal for psychedelic music,” says Tojo
Rodrigues, bassist for Portuguese heavy psych trio Black Bombaim. “Not many bands,
but a big following.” As evidence, he mentions the major Reverence Festival, set for
September 12-13 in Valada, where Black Bombaim will play alongside Hawkwind,
Electric Wizard, Psychic TV and a full international spectrum of contemporary psych.
On a smaller scale, the annual Milhoes de Festa in their hometown of Barcelos this
year featured Earthless, High On Fire and Teeth Of The Sea among a typically eclectic
line-up. “When a festival branches out like that and does different stuff, it doesn’t
sell tickets, but people who go there start opening up their minds to different sounds,”
says Tojo. “Reverence is the proof of that; people are far more into psychedelic music
now than they were four years ago.”
Black Bombaim – Tojo, guitarist Ricardo Miranda and drummer Paulo ‘Senra’
Goncalves – started playing together as school friends in Barcelos seven years ago.
Initially influenced by Black Sabbath and Kyuss, they dug into their parents’ record
collections and discovered Pink Floyd and Krautrock acts like Can and Ash Ra Tempel.
Hearing San Diego’s Earthless was a turning point: “That’s when we realised we could
go on without a singer. We thought we could do that as well, because that’s what we
already did, in our rehearsal space, we just used to play for hours and hours.”
The band persuaded Earthless guitarist Isiah Mitchell to play on their 2012 LP Titans,
alongside Comets On Fire’s Noel Von Harmonson and The Stooges’ Steve MacKay. “We
just invited them to play, and they accepted it,” Tojo shrugs. “Like Steve MacKay; I was
staying at [Lovers & Lollypops label boss] Joaquim’s house, and Steve MacKay was in
the next room. He was playing his saxophone; he was collaborating with an electronic
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project in Porto. So I just asked him.”
Black Bombaim have also collaborated with Manchester’s Gnod and older
Barcelos jazz-rock band La La La Ressonance, and their current album, Far Out,
was released on the revered Cardinal Fuzz label. Yet they’re still often met with
bemusement in their homeland. “People wouldn’t understand in Portugal,”
Tojo admits. “They would always ask us, why are your songs so long? It’s
too crazy, you guys need a singer. Until we really forced it on people it
wasn’t accepted.” Tojo points out that the right-wing dictatorship from
1933-74 militated against any psychedelic tradition in ’60s Portugal,
although Brazilian Tropicalia was always popular, and still informs
the rhythms of today’s Portuguese bands. The exception was
Quarteto 1111’s Moody Blues styled symphonic rock; singer Jose
Cid also made the prog classic 10,000 Anos Depois Entre Venus
e Marte, before embarking on a hugely successful middle of
the road pop career.
Tojo also denies that Portugal’s liberal drug laws (all
drug possession was effectively decriminalised in 2001)
are particularly relevant to the current psych boom.
“When we were kids we did drugs, but not so much
right now,” he says. “And other bands as well. But
I don’t think that influenced the music as much
as it did in the ’60s. You’re now influenced by
the music of the ’60s, not the drugs.”
something that I can listen to all the time. I’ll put on an album and probably
make it through half of it. I like the approach, that feeling of a controlled
jam out.’’
As it stands though, “jams” are actually pretty far from the taut
musical lexicon of Images Du Futur. Rather, the record is full of the
kind of sultry, low slung gear that one can imagine hypothetically
accompanying David Bowie on a midnight stroll around Berlin
as he took time out from recording Low – all sex, sleaze and
sadness.
But while Sunns may, initially, seem more at home
on a bill of electronic leaning music, they see psych
as something of a state of mind, rather than set of
musical rules, and as such are very much looking
forward to playing Liverpool.
‘‘Psych fest is promoting newer, interesting
music that you wouldn’t really see at other
festivals, and in terms of that we definitely
fit in with the mindset. But it’s such a broad
mindset that anything goes, I hope it’s
more of a mental thing. Because we’ve
just played one supposedly ‘psych’
festival where it seemed to be more
of a metal leaning thing, and I
think I must have heard the same
Sabbath riff over one hundred
times throughout the day. So
yeah, it’s really cool that the
Liverpool guys are taking
this open approach be
that through crazy
electronic acts, mind
expanding stuff or
anything that’s
interesting’’ he
concludes.
Texan psych eccentrics HOLY WAVE are a multi
instrumentalist spectacular who produce a swirling
racket of 13th Floor Elevators proportions. RHONDA
LEE REALI was granted a rare audience with the band
for a quick Q&A session on the realities of taking this
most visceral of shows on the long and winding road
Texas-based Holy Wave are reaching our shores again bringing their varied brand of
garage, psych and surf sounds to spice things up. Multi-instrumentalists Joey Cook,
Ryan Fuson, Kyle Hager, Julian Ruiz and Dustin Zozaya are riding the crest with their
success at Austin’s Psych Fest and SXSW, a third tour supporting Sweden’s Goat and
their latest album, Relax. Reverberate spoke with Zozaya about touring, birthday
serenades and the wonderment of those golden arches.
Reverberate: What sights do you want to see in Liverpool?
Zozaya: Last time, we only saw one block. I think Liverpool was playing Arsenal, so it
was really tense. We’re looking forward to seeing more of the city.
R: No Beatles’ nostalgia tours?
Z: I don’t know what spots to go to. I’d have to look them up. I’m sure I’ll be into that,
though, I’m more into just wandering.
R: Are European audiences so different from ones in the US?
Z: It’s absolutely true that they‘re different. There’s generally more enthusiasm in
Europe. Not that there’s not any sort of enthusiasm in the States… I think we just
bring an exoticism to them because we’re from the States. It’s more exotic when we’re
in Europe, like we’re more exotic. We’re received well in the States, too, but people
come out to our shows in Europe a lot more then they do there.
R: Best and/or unusual audience incidents/encounters – non-X-rated! -from across
the pond?
Z: Our first show in Europe, ever, was the night before my birthday, in Belgium. It was
packed and everybody was really excited about [the gig]. We were a little bit nervous,
but it was a really good show, and it kind of set the mood for the rest of the tour. It was
the first time we played there, so we had to break the ice a little bit. After midnight, the
entire smoking room of the bar sang ‘Happy Birthday’ to me in French. That was a real cool
experience! Also, people were singing along in London. That was one of the first times we
had ever noticed that people knew certain songs. That people in cities like London and
Berlin kind of knew our songs already and had developed their own connection to them –
which blew our minds. We didn’t think people even knew who we were!
R: Favourite European country or sightseeing spot and the cheesiest?
Z: We had a really good time in Spain. I think for a lot of us, it was more comfortable
because we grew up with Spanish. We grew up like – literally – 10 minutes from Mexico
[in El Paso] so that helped. We have a cool connection with Spain, and we like it a lot.
Their culture is so open. Amsterdam was cool, too. As far as the cheesiest, that’s hard
to say. It was our first tour in Europe, so there was a magic veil over everything. Even
McDonalds was cool!
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the future of the psychedelic record sleeve
When it comes to psych, album artwork is of pivotal spiritual significance. After all, this is music that conjures
visions: music that can lift the cranium to the outer sphere. the art is – arguably – as vital a part of that whole
glorious kaleidoscopic mélange as the music. rocket recordings are known for gleefully stirring the visual
cauldron alongside the aural stockpot – allow sophiA stAchell BAeZA to guide you through hells kitchen…
Chris Reeder, one half of London/Bristol “outsider psych” label Rocket Recordings,
is pretty clear about the future of the LP sleeve – and it’s definitely not bleak. “Quite
the opposite!” he explains. “Right now, labels are trying hard to make physical sales
of vinyl grow further than they have been in recent years. We’re seeing more lavish
artwork and format ideas appearing. It feels like it did back in the ’70s and ’80s when
labels tried all the tricks to get more sales – but that left a great legacy of interesting
sleeves and formats.” What, then, is this legacy? Where does it come from… and what
are they doing with it?
Album covers have come a long way from the early days of plain pasteboard covers
on 78 rpm Shellac-coated records. In the ’40s, these started to be replaced with
hand-drawn illustrations and later – when developments in printing and photography
allowed – with photography. Alex Steinweiss, art director for Columbia Records and the
man widely held to be the inventor of the album cover artwork saw the marketing and
visionary potential in using covers to sell the sounds inside. Steinweiss’ unique style
– which involved coloured, curly hand-drawn lettering and an adoption of geometric
patterns and folk art symbols – paved the way for greater ingenuity in the medium.
Steinweiss was also heavily influenced by French and German poster art: you can trace
a similar trajectory of influence between the psychedelic poster and LP cover. Just
look at the heavy poster influence behind The Beatles’ Sgt. Pepper’s Lonely Hearts Club
Band1, released by EMI Records in 1967; an album which arguably changed the face of
LP sleeves to come. A collage of celebrities (88 figures in total) designed by Pop artists
Jann Haworth and Peter Blake with the band and set photographed by Michael Cooper,
Sgt. Pepper was more than just iconic – it came to define the Eastern esoterica and
revolutionary optimism of The Swinging Sixties. It was an album you never forgot.
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An iconic album cover is more than just a visual teaser for the sounds inside, rather
it is an entryway pretext for what to expect when the sleeve’s unpeeled. It’s about the
object’s physicality, about the procedural journey involved in finding, picking up and
turning over. It’s a visual portal into other imaginative worlds, one that stays ingrained
long after the record’s run out. But digital promises new entryways into combining
both art and music in interesting ways. “What digital opens up is the chance for the art
to move,” observes Reeder. “To be interactive, to tell a story, so the role of the art can
become even more entwined with the music. Bjork tried something like this [with her
interactive “app album” 2011’s Biophilia2]. I’m not sure it fully worked but the door is
open for creatives to come up with other ways for art and music to work together.”
But back to the physical object: when it comes to the iconography of the psychedelic
record, there are some notable prescient examples, certain styles or images that keeps
returning like a ghost. That uneven, bubble-style lettering – whose art parallels might
be found in Ed Ruscha’s Liquid Words – can certainly be seen veined through much of
the lysergic poster art of the West Coast/ Swinging London of the ’60s. Then there are
the loose amoebic shapes of the liquid light shows; the nods to Art Nouveau organic
lettering and colour palettes, superimposed colours, kaleidoscopic effects, and
collage.
Certain covers break the mould, of course – Mati Klarwein’s psychedelic-surrealist
sleeve art for Miles Davis Bitches Brew3 immediately comes to mind: an Afro futuristtinged landscape unfolds like a yin yang symbol, where white and black, dark and light
intertwine in the swirl of a hand clasp. Right now (across the pond in Kentucky) resident
Robert Beatty is creating underground, psychedelic album covers where the airbrush
meets Photoshop: an Alan Aldridge of the internet4.
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Since 1998, Record Recordings have been putting out records where the visual
elements count for much of their success. Famed for their vivid, neon-drenched
hallucinogenicstyle,ReederandJohnO’Carrollworkcollaborativelyandindependently
onthegraphicdesignofRocket’sreleases.Thereareheavynodsto’60spsychedelic
visuals,butalsotosci-fi(particularlythestyleoflate’70smagOmni),alongsidethe
jaggededgesofpunkandthepan-globalgraphicsofAfricandesign.Butnoteverything
travelsthelysergicpath.ThecoversleeveforBristolbandHi-FictionSciencecombines
aBallardianviewoftheBristolskylinewiththehauntologicaltingeofadystopian
sciencetextbook.
Intheirwords:“It’slikeGhostboxRecordsmeets’60sindustrygraphicdesign.”Then
there’sthetotalitariantremorbehindTheHeads/WhiteHill’sCollision Vol 15LP,with
itsnodstoMussolini-eragraphics,asahugefascisteaglesoarsupwardstowardsthe
sky.Theinspirationsforthiswere,notesO’Carroll,astrangebrewofthedesignbook
Iron Fists: Branding The 20th Century Totalitarian State alongside Barney Bubbles
eraHawkwindart.Ialsodetectawiderstrainofthetotalitarianbehindsomeoftheir
stagedesign.WhenO’CarrollwentontourwithGeoffBarrow’sBeak,hislightshow’s
emphasiswasonsubliminalspectacle–amoreminimalistaestheticthatpushedthe
throbbingstrobesofWWIIprisonerofwarsearch-lightstoblind
theaudience.WithTheHeads’designs,meanwhile,itwasall
colourandpattern.
Some of their biggest hitters certainly weave towards
thekaleidoscopicsideofthespectrum–theiconography
oftheliquidlightshowisparticularlyeffectiveinthis.
Indeed,theliquidlightshowhasahistoryofgracing
rocksleeves.IronButterfly’sIn-A-Gadda-Da-Vida6(’68);thebackcoverofMobyGrape’s
eponymous’67debutalbum;theAndyWarhol-producedThe Velvet Underground & Nico7
(’67).WhenLondon’sUFOclublaunchedasNiteTripperinDecember’66,theposter’s
designincorporatedayoungwoman(PeteTownsend’sgirlfriendKarenAstley,noless)
withalightshowspellingoutthewords“NiteTripper”projectedontoherface.
AndO’Carroll’sownexperiencescreatinglightshowsarewovenintohissleeveart,a
caseinpointbeinghisartworkforTheHeads.Alongsidethe“Heads”covertitlefontbyMr
Price,therestwas,explainsO’Carroll“mypureindulgenceinto’60spsychedelicartwork.”
Everybody Knows We Got Nowhere8 nods to the mixed-media collage style of
FrenchcomicbookartistPhillipeDruillet’sLa Nuit,withO’Carroll’sownphotographs
ofhisoil-basedprojections.Thisisn’tstraightuplightshowphotography,alaIron
Butterfly.Photographsandcutupsoflightshowimageryare,rather,integratedinto
thegraphicdesignofthesleeve.“Iliketomixitup,”heexplains.“Ilovethe’60sstuff;
theMarkBoyle,UFO,SoftMachineperiodoils,butI’vealsogotaveryheavyinterestin
moreexperimentalblackandwhite(suchasInstructions For A Light & Sound Machine
(2005)byPeterTscherkassky).Rightuptomoderncontemporaryvisuals.Thebeststuff
doesn’tjustcopythepast.”ThelightshowLPsleeveisn’tgoinganywhere,then:recent
releasesin2014includeOrvalCarlosSibelius’Super Forma9vinyl,Frenchpsychedelic
rockerAxelMonneau’sfacevisiblyawashwithcolourfulliquidlight.
Thelogoisanothercrucialelement.There’sacomic-bookinfluenceintheRocket
Recordings logo, which shares something with that of San Francisco’s Amoeba
Records,comingcourtesyoftheSpanish-WestCoastartistFrankKozik.In1981,Kozik
begandesigningandpostingblackandwhiteflyersforfriends’bandsontelephone
poles.Hisreputationsky-rocketed,andsoonhewascreatingartworkforthelikesof
PearlJam,TheWhiteStripes,TheBeastieBoys,GreenDay,NeilYoungandNirvana.
Thepsychedelicrecordsleeveisladenwithhistory–heavywithpastreferences,
symbolsandsignifiersforthelysergicexperience.Thelegendarygraphicdesigner
BarneyBubbles,amanoncedescribedbyPeterSavilleas“Themissinglinkbetween
popandculture”isonewhoseimpactspanswidelyacrossthedesignworld.ForRocket
Recordings,it’sheavy.Bubbles’Glastonbury FayreLP,completewithalltheinserts
andprintedbagwasa“hugeinfluenceonRocket’searlydays,”Reederexplains.In
Search Of Space10,Space Ritual11andDoreimebyHawkwindarementioned.
“Infact,ALLthesleevesofBarneyBubblesareamazing.Iwenttohisexhibition
several years ago and was blown away with his work and attention to detail and
levelsofconceptinhisart”hecontinues.ThereisalsomentionofLaBoca’sEmperor
Machinesleeves;RudimentaryPeni’sDeath Church12,andRound The EdgesbyDark.
“Wellinfactit’sacrapsleeve,butit’ssocrapit’sgreat!Justlookattheback.Whoput
theletterboxthere;whopissedonthewall?…Ilovetheabsurdnessofit!”
EarlyNeu/KraftwerkalbumsplusthoseearlyStereolabreleasesarealsoheavy
influences,partlyduetothe“simple,repetitionandhandfinishedapproach”.“Istill
thinkMudhoney’sSuperfuzz Bigmuff13sleeveisaworkofgenius!Itdescribesthemusic
within[it]sowell,”headds.
Goat’sWorld Music14isalsooneofRocketRecordingsmostpopularrecentcovers.
Theresultofalast-minute“eureka”momentafteraphotographerpulledoutof
the job, the design combines afro-tribal patterns with a die-cut sleeve – visual
inventivenessthatsitswellalongsidetheauralweirdnessoftheirdisco-doom-psych
andkrautrockleaningcombinations.Thedie-cuthasfilteredonthroughalegion
of album sleeves – all the way back to the first Nucleus album Elastic Rock15 on
Vertigo.SaysReeder:“IrememberatATPlastOctoberwhenGoatplayed,Iwentto
checkoutthemerchtableandalltheLPssetuparoundGoat’stable,likeMogwaiand
Superchunk,allhaddie-cutsleevesontheirlatestalbums.Itdidmakemelaugh!”
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“Digitalopensupthechanceforthearttomove,to
beinteractive,totellastory,sotheroleoftheart
canbecomeevenmoreentwinedwiththemusic”
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The quest continues for GOAT, as the new album drops two years after the revelation that was
World Music. PHIL ISTINE discusses Commune, spiritual endeavours, and their hesitancy to open up
No matter how determined an interviewer can be, getting anyone from Goat to enter
into a free-flowing dialogue about what they do – and what they do is magnificent – is
akin to winning an Olympic Gold. Reverberate would wager the latter task is actually a
breeze in comparison. But that is what we are here to do, and anyway trying to battle
the wall of anonymity feels strangely satisfying.
‘Hide From The Sun’ was the first (dramatic, fuzz-drenched, Arabian-influenced)
sound the world heard of the band’s second period. It was amusing to read descriptions
of the Goat sound the first time around. Scarce few adjectives do justice to its full
dynamic range. “Afro-psych” was a popular effort, taking the Afrobeat name and
subverting it, much as the band do themselves. It does not however encapsulate the
true fusion-led nature of their sonic world of heavy percussion, chanting, stinging
guitar, wah-wah funkiness, progressive song structures, and plenty more. Funkadelic’s
breathtaking 1971 album Maggot Brain is perhaps the best go-to comparison, but it
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doesn’t reflect the serious, spiritual nature of this thing called Goat.
Funkadelic were also a loose-limbed collective, defined as much as
by a leader calling the shots and a party lifestyle. Neither particularly
apply within the Goat Collective.
In simpler terms it was the sheer shock of hearing World Music in 2012
that turned a lot of heads, and maybe even the occasional stomach, to
Sweden, as here was a left-field assault on what we’d come to expect from
psychedelic adventurers in the new century. Was this mad crazy rattling, played
by a bunch of undefined men and women in elaborate dress and masks, actually
happening? Was it real? Yes it was. It was, more accurately, hyper real. Hands
down it was the best record of that year, and their snowballing following has since
threatened to break them out of cultdom. Though, through the sheer weirdness and
un-radio-friendliness of the songs, it’s unlikely to actually happen. Thankfully.
Commune, their second studio LP, has taken the interstellar baton of WM and continued
the mission, but not strictly repeated it. Its appearance, with its minimal artwork and
nameless players, continues to add to the mystical feel they project. Commune is slightly
more restrained, moodier, and defiantly more philosophical. The more confident listener
can handle the droning and hypnotic polyrhythmic journey they take us on without having
to resort to fuzzy acid-rock guitar solos for familiarity and comfort. The vocal parts are
often a revelation, and almost gospel in their conviction – even if they are often recorded
in a reverberating way that makes deciphering them require some serious concentration.
This, Reverberate suspects, is entirely their aim: full immersion. From the opening chimes
and repetitive riffs of ‘Talk To God’ the listener is put in a trance-like state, unlikely to
wake for the nine track duration.
Reverberate now has
a rare chance to sit down
and talk with an anonymous
member of the Goat Collective.
Friendly interrogation can
commence. Unlocking the method
behind this brilliant madness should
be possible, it’s been done before with
countless bands. And yet, and yet... we
only get a partial take on the complete
masterpiece, and what we do get may be
spoken with tongue metaphorically in cheek.
It is very hard not to have a reservation or two
in the answers provided. Readers should not only
take them with a pinch of salt, but a truckload of
sodium chloride. Or, looking at it another way, it is
quite possible everything is said with unquestionable
sincerity, and only a cynical hack would deem them to
be overly earnest or entirely fabricated. Perhaps best if you
decide for yourselves
Even a simple introductory “How is the band?” is greeted with a wider theory
of what this “band” is. “Our view of the world and humankind” he begins, “and its
cultural expression is that we are all part of the same tribe. With more similarities
then differences.” Yes yes, lovely sentiment. So you are not a tight unit of like-minded
individuals living the village life? “The Goat
commune still resides in the north [of
Sweden], but members are spread out.
Some people just moved to Florida for
example. I’m often in Korpilombolo
now and at this time of year the sun doesn’t go down.” The story of them being from
the remote Korpilombolo seems to have dissolved recently, and the boring truth might
just be they convene and record in Gothenburg. Perhaps.
When Reverberate suggests that they appear to live in a singular world, with little
care for what other fellow psychonaut travellers are doing, the rebuttal is swift.
“Being influenced by new things is a positive thing and one of the good things about
us travelling. The way we see it, our musical identity is [based on being] to always
stay open-minded towards all other musical and cultural expressions.” That was
pleasantly unexpected. Asking further about inspirations allows for a rare moment
of specificity. “It is everything between heaven and hell, really. Recently some old
Malian stuff has been played hard in the studio, like Guelewar, Kanaga De Mopti and
Super Biton. Some other day people go off to Giorgio Moroder.”
The themes addressed on Commune are clear enough from the song titles alone,
encapsulating treaties on the nature of God, slavery, tribe life, and spirituality. “The
poetry is still simple,” offers our interviewee, “but profound. We have some people in
the family that are good with words.” Everyone in Goat is good at something, more
to the point. Being in this collective seems, to an outsider at least, a strong vehicle
for self-expression, providing members with a joyous form of spiritualism that can
be shared with the world. Our spokesperson today seems taken with this idea, stating
that “The most rewarding part of being part of Goat is the sense of collectiveness.”
Elaborating he argues that “The less important something is for you, the more you
can relax and just love it. Then it gets really good. But don’t claim it. Making music
with Goat is a spiritual process and it gives my life meaning. But I can miss a show or
a recording session, that is no problem. It has given me peace of mind. But if I would
have to quit tomorrow I’m fine with it. I would go and do something else. That’s the
whole point.”
Clearly some of this free-spirit approach has rubbed off on the audience, and
could help explain their popularity. They now are a real live draw across Europe and
America. Not that the band necessarily understand why. “The live shows have all been
great to play for me. But I’m not sure what people like about us exactly. It is a lot
of guitars and rhythms, and masks. That’s about it I think.” There is that. Does he
think the world ever wants to see Goat “for real”, without the stage gear? “No. We
will always wear masks.” As we’ve broached the subject of disguise and why getting
substantial information from them is so hard it is time to push further. But it’s met
with textbook politician-style side-stepping. Reverberate hypotheses that it could be
a contradiction to release music for public consumption and still claim to be outside
of the publicity sphere of talking yourself up. You want more people to listen to your
work presumably? “If you think of it, there is just no point for anyone to know anything
about us as individuals. But it gives us freedom in many ways. I can’t understand why
more artists don’t wanna stay anonymous.
It is the music you are interested in, right?
And music is just rhythms, melodies, sounds
and poetry. But we answer questions about our
music and our history. What more do you need?
And I see no contradiction keeping the individuals anonymous to lift up the collective.
We want people to hear our music just like anyone else. But I don’t want anyone to
know who I am.” Having no time for individualism and promoting ideas of collectivism
is not a very media-saturated 21st century idea, and that just makes Goat all the
more refreshing and interesting. Just don’t expect inside leg measurements anytime
soon.
Are the band the real deal? Reverberate isn’t sure we’re any closer to the answer
after our engagement. A band, sorry “collective”, that works so hard to reach out to
their audience through music, whilst simultaneously maintaining a dignified distance
from these same people, is hard to fathom. The subtext in all this might just be: they
merely carry the message, they do not own it. The message is an original, beguiling,
Third-Eye pleasing plea to the Gods for better times. In person at The Liverpool
International Festival Of Psychedelia the band can show, alongside us, this character
in all its full colourful Techincolor glory. Always remember, as the collectives sings,
“You’re the Goatchild”.
“Making music with Goat is a spiritual
process and it gives my life meaning”
9
GNOD are a force of nature: a beautifully intense
Mancunian chaos collective encompassing
myriad sounds and many people. A craggy rock of
counter cultural rebellion in the UK, Gnod ramble
rough shod through life propelled by strong ale,
stronger weed and the aural talisman of pulsing
motorik beats, overdriven soundsystems and
pulsating dynamics. HARRY SWORD caught up with
Chris Haslam to discuss making things happen…
10
It’s rare to find a group who represent DIY culture as strongly as Gnod. Crass
during the ’80s, perhaps – recording, sloganeering and frantically stencilling
from the Dial House commune in Epping Forest – or Amon Duul, emerging with
a slew of ramshackle jams from the fertile Munich squat scene in the late
’60s. In 2014, however, it is Gnod that perfectly encapsulates a spirit of open
collaboration and self- sufficiency.
Combining cranky home-spun electronics, free form jams and bowel shaking
bass frequencies, they are a primary force in modern psychedelic music – a
rambling crew featuring a rotating cast of members, collaborators and friends
who have been traversing the boundaries of life and art since 2006.
Operating from Islington Mill – a former Victorian Mill near the docks now
home to a host of artists and musicians – Gnod rehearse, write and record in the
Mill. Self-releasing Abstehen Der Ohren in 2007, a kaleidoscopic array of musical
adventures have followed – live albums; studio LPs; split 45s and collaborations.
2011’s Chaudnaud
Vol 1 garnered
particularly
wide
attention due to
its volatile tumble of
astral fuzz and rolling
sonic energy. But while
that record (and much of
the bands earlier material)
combined elements of drone,
krautrock and ambient influences
to visceral effect, recent material
has seen the band move away from
traditional instrumentation.
‘‘It isn’t really that big a change
for us, to be honest,” says Chris Haslam.
“When we first got together we were actually
debating about whether we should even have
a guitarist in the band because we didn’t want
to get tied into a ‘traditionalist’ rock set up. A few
years in – when the line up got a little more stable
– it started to resemble a more traditional lineup but that was more to do with ease of touring and
maintaining some kind of consistency of sound.’’
But, while the band have recently begun to experiment
with an increasingly electronic palate of sounds, Haslam is
quick to point out that Gnod have always worked in a spirit
of open collaboration. ‘‘The thing about Gnod is that we’ve had
over 30 members pass through since we’ve been going; and we’ve
maintained a strong degree of experimentation within the band,
nothing is ever stable in the way we make music. The earlier records
still had a load of different sounds going on, using random bits of
electronics and instruments; setting up weird effects chains, that kind of
thing. And whilst the albums might
give people a certain impression of
what we do, they are really only a
snapshot of what we were doing at
that time. It becomes real when
you see us live as we usually play
what we’re doing currently.’’
Indeed, this rough shod
immediacy was often captured on early Gnod recordings: jam sessions
recorded live on handheld digital recorders and released on CDR. However, the
band have found recent inspiration in the primal hypnosis of techno combined
with the ever present chaos element of free improvisation. ‘‘Now that we’re
more comfortable with the set up,” adds Haslam, “we use a more studio based
approach when we make tracks, but still within that tradition of improvisation;
we don’t plan it out. There is a huge amount of crossover with electronic music
and more guitar based stuff at the minute; they don’t have to be mutually
exclusive – personally speaking, I’ve been listening to a fair bit of electronic
music recently. I’ve been loving a lot of the Blackest Ever Black stuff – Sandwell
District too – they have this dreamlike hypnotic element to what they do which
we relate to.”
He continues. ‘‘We don’t tend to go into the studio with an exact idea of what
we’re going to do, we jam and see what happens; it doesn’t have to be a set
way, or sound a certain way… funnily enough, someone in the band has just
done a meditation course. They were talking about the length of time it takes
to get the body into the perfect state for altered consciousness to descend
through meditation: and it’s around the 20 minute mark which is exactly how
long a good jam usually lasts for! Pretty much all of our tunes are around 20
minutes long… we get stuff down pretty quickly though. But we’re trying out a
lot of new stuff. Right now, we’ve been in the studio with Charles Haywood as
part of his residency at Islington Mill. He has an interesting way of working, he’ll
give you a rough idea, then off you go, everyone interprets it in their own way.’’
Sensory immersion in sound is thus central to Gnod but as any fan of
electronic music will tell you the physical sound system that the music is played
through is of paramount importance if full synapse entrancement is the aim
– a decent system makes the difference between feeling the music or merely
hearing it. With this in mind, the band recently commissioned a full sound
system build.
‘‘In Islington Mill there are a crew called Dub Smugglers,” explains Haslam,
“who are involved in building systems. We’ve always known that it was
important that we could control the sound coming out the speakers and not
have to rely on venue PA, which can kill the vibe if it hasn’t got the weight. We
thought it would be a good idea to get a rig to take on the road, so we asked
them to build one for us. It cost a lot but it was worth it. We now have the
advantage of playing anywhere dry with a plug socket: people can actually feel
and hear how we intend to sound, rather than it being filtered out through a
weak PA combined with an arsey soundman.”
Apart from gigging, Gnod have also been able to utilise the system at
their self-curated Gesamtkunstwerk club night that takes place sporadically
at Islington Mill. An eclectic family affair, the night sees regular live sets
alongside DJ support from guests and band members. Less a club-night, more
spirited happening. A recent night alongside Maurice Carlin and Bill Campbell
saw the band and guests physically improvising the art/decor for the space as
the night progressed. As Haslam explains, people travel from far and wide: ‘‘A
lot of people travel from all over the place for the nights we have down here. We
have people who come over from Europe – and that shows that we’re doing a
good thing, even if financially it’s a struggle. We recently had Lightening Glove
and Basic House play, and there is a family feel to the events, it’s something
that feels important to carry on. And it ties into what we were talking about
earlier with the electronic thing; we wanted a space where we could explore
electronic music (either made by us or by others) on a great system, music that
isn’t necessarily 4/4 for the dancefloor.’’
But while Gnod have also toured extensively, both around the UK and Europe,
taking their intense aural chaos to myriad venues and festivals, Haslam is keen
to emphasise a difference in attitude in Europe, specifically in terms of arts
funding and wider acceptance of the unusual.
“The length of time it takes to get into the perfect state for
altered consciousness through meditation is 20 minutes,
exactly how long a good jam usually lasts for!”
‘‘Generally speaking, Europe has been very good to us. We’ve toured a fair
bit over there; they have a more open attitude. The funding is there for arts
projects in a way that simply isn’t the case in the UK anymore. Like Belgium, for
example. We were booked to play this massive arts centre with gleaming glass
exterior, a nice new modern building and we wonder if you can smoke cigs inside
and you walk in and there’s someone at the bar smoking a big spliff. There is a
bit more freedom there… if that was the UK you’d probably be chucked out for
smoking outside the place, let alone in the middle of the bar... There is more
trust of people over there.’’
Trust, collaboration and open-ended artistic possibility are all important
parts of what drive Gnod to make the music they make and talking to Haslam
it is clear that Islington Mill has played a pivotal role in the bands genesis and
continued operations – a life hub for the entire Gnodverse.
‘‘The Mill itself has been incredibly helpful to us; most of us do some kind of
work there; bar work, cleaning, running the B&B, maintenance or handy work;
it helps makes it all possible. A lot goes on here. We’re very much a community,
an alternative to the mainstream – there isn’t really a division between the
band and our life, this is very much a full time affair. And although most of us
are too young to have experienced the ’90s free party scene it’s a tradition we
have respect for, and Gnod is always open to alternative ways of doing things.
Like with the soundsystem; we’ll say to people, ‘Look, if you have a space for
us, we have a PA and soundman, you might be able to run the bar…’ Do you
know what I mean? The possibilities are there for a different way – as difficult
as it can be in the UK. And we’re open to that.”
11
Combining wistful melody, sun bleached harmonics
and fuzzy surf tones, ALLAH LAS have recently broken
through the LA heat haze with a beautifully site specific
sound. HARRY SWORD spoke to the band about their
origins working behind the counter at the legendary
Amoeba Records and why “retro” ain’t no dirty word
‘‘I think the way that the term ‘retrospective’ has became instantly pejorative is really
a travesty for humanity – both artistically and politically. Not looking back at the same
time as looking forward means you have no balance; no history to look back upon –
and you find yourself in very strange places if you do that.’’ Allah Las guitarist Pedrum
Siadatian is refreshingly forthright talking about the bands love of sixties sound and
aesthetic, a deep understanding harboured by the bands original tenure working at
12
Amoeba Records; but woe betide anyone who
throws the term “retro” as a dig…
‘‘I was already working at Amoeba; Matt (Correia,
drums) started working – we got along really well.
Spencer (Dunham, bass) had home recordings – I had
similar recordings that got passed along. We played out
first show on Halloween – it was a terrible show, but we
kept going – garage-rock was a huge influence on us, and
also ’80s stuff like Spacemen 3 and Paisley Underground’’
But while gritty garage rock may have been an influence
on the band, the music found on their eponymous 2012 debut
was a notably more languid affair, tracks like ‘No Voodoo’ and
‘Catamaran’ coming on like The Kinks, Love and The Dream Syndicate
jamming on a padded airship somewhere over the mid Atlantic, aided by
a liberal dose of Quaaludes and cheap wine, all blissed reverb and queasy
jangle. Capturing a woozy vibe that perfectly evoked the hallucinatory heat
haze of LA summertime, Allah Las was a record that charmed with an easy –
going sensibility keenly evocative of both the music and physical landscape of
its birthplace, not least the ocean.
Indeed, the surf underground is a vital part of the Allah Las spiritual genetics;
the band are all keen surfers and have previously name checked Laurence Lipton’s
1959 novel The Holy Barbarians, which depicted the beatnik scene on Venice Beach,
as a point of interest.
‘‘We all grew up around LA and the surf scene is something we love; friends, the beach,
music – it all ties together. We used to watch Thomas Campbell surf movies. In fact, the
first basement we rehearsed in was full of Spencer’s dads surf board collection.”
Likewise, the music spawned from the city of Angles has also always been close
to the bands collective heart: ‘‘Whether it was The Seeds, The Byrds, The Beach Boys
or Rain Parade and Gun Club; The Paisley Underground bands. LA had such a wide
variety of what I would describe as ‘pinnacle’ music to us. Working at Amoeba, we
were exposed to so much music’’ explains Pedrum.
This process of musical osmosis at Amoeba saw the band grow to love a particular
production sound. But while much has been made of the analogue aesthetics of the
first album (a recording process that saw producer Nick Waterhouse testing racks of
’50s gear and dizzyingly expensive vintage mics at The Distillery studio) the band are
keen to emphasize the importance of longevity over technique. And if the tracks we’ve
heard thus far from forthcoming record ‘Worship The Sun’ are anything to go by, Allah
Las will be riding the wave for sometime on the strength of melody, vibe and blissful
harmonics, a siren call to carefree summer.
As one of the founding members of seminal ’80s garage psych
adventurers Spacemen 3 and – latterly – the owner of a successful
rehearsal studio, PETE (BASSMAN) BAIN has seen the psychedelic
music that he loves discovered, lost and rediscovered time
and again over the past two decades. HARRY SWORD
learns of the perfect prescription (musical, that is)
‘‘If I could give anyone credit for bringing psych to newer generations it would be
The Brian Jonestown Massacre,” says Pete. “I know that for a fact, because we have
kids coming through the studio who got hold of their Big DVD, saying it changed their
lives and led to an appreciation of older music and all things psych.
‘‘Psych is much more part of the heritage in America – if you think of The 13th
Floor Elevators, the San Francisco scene and all the rest of it – they’ve got a heck
of a lot of history, and that has inspired a lot of the newer bands. In my opinion,
the more new bands the better, you know? I’ve been living under a rock for the
last 10 years though.’’
Combining influences drawn equally from lush ’60s psychedelia and
raw garage-rock, Spacemen 3 were a vital part of the ’80s underground
landscape, with albums like Sound Of Confusion and The Perfect
Prescription succinctly joining the dots between amped aggression and
spaced drone. However, while they continue to be one of the most frequently sited
and vital influences over the modern psych scene, the early ’90s saw the bands demise
after an acrimonious split, an event that was followed by the inexorable rise of Britpop
– a movement Bain holds little truck with.
“Things changed in the ’90s. I thought that everything that we’d been working
towards and building up dissipated. And that was largely to do with Blur, Oasis and
The Stone Roses. There were some fantastic bands around the time (The Shaman,
Loop) but by and large, I hated what Britpop represented. Pale, insipid, directionless,
nothing to say – it sounded like dishwater to me, there was no danger to it. When we
started we had a punk element to what we did – a healthy anti establishment angle.”
After Spacemen 3, Bain was involved in a number of short-lived bands including
both The Darkside and Alpha Stone. However, the pressure of trying to organise
rehearsals, tours and recording sessions in a rapidly changing musical environment
took its toll.
‘‘Every band was a fuck-up, a complete and utter nightmare due to a number of
reasons. Going from a well-known to an obscure band is a corruptive process in many
ways – at the end of the day it is very difficult to keep a group of people together, keep
the practices going and all the rest of it – I’m also running a busy rehearsal studio and
have two kids, so time is extremely limited.’’
That said however, Bain still finds the time to gig – and over the past few years has
been performing the physically enveloping and synapse expanding solo set that he will
bring to Liverpool Psych Fest at venues around the UK. Utilising electronic equipment
alongside his bass guitar, he shapes an intoxicating wall of sound.
‘‘I’ve been doing it for so long that I have a bit of an attachment to the machines.
Musicians are notoriously difficult to discipline. You have to rehearse them and pay
them. In a band, three shows out of every 10 will be shite. But I don’t like unpredictability
on the stage – I want to know exactly what is going to be coming out of the speakers,
not worried that the drummers done too many E’s the night before and can’t play the
fucking drums anymore. That used to drive me mad in bands – one week you could have
a fantastic rehearsal, and the next it would be a nightmare. My machines go at exactly
the right tempo; they don’t get drunk, they’re not going to have ego problems and
they’re not going to walk out on me. So, this is the way it has to be.’’
HARRY SWORD talks fuzz with ANTHROPROPHH’s Paul Allen
‘‘I tend to relate the term ‘psych’ to the mid to late ’60s when the fuzz pedal was
used extensively for the first time and bands were starting to utilise the studio
as an instrument. The underground scene confused the music industry; but
that meant they were willing to take risks to seek the golden goose… I was
always particularly enamoured with the UK scene. The underground was
trying to make a grey world colourful.’’
As a founder member of premier Bristollian psych merchants
The Heads, Paul Allen knows a thing or two about musical colour
– it would also be something of an understatement to say he
knows a thing or two about the fuzz box. Marshalling a love of
heavy tones, legacy FX pedals, limited run editions and heavy
duty riffing, The Heads continue to exist in their own –
occasional – headspace, with all members committed to
various other projects. For Allen, the exotically named
Anthroprophh has been the primary outlet for new
music. A trio who combine a propensity for twisted
electronic avenues alongside hard driving motorik
fuzz, a fine eponymous debut was released last
year via Rocket, and new LP Outside The Circle
is ready for release this September.
‘‘At the end of 2011 The Heads
were very quiet and I decided to start doing a spacey and Germanic inspired set of
recordings,” explains Allen. “It was winter – I was on my own in a slightly dilapidated
house – so it seemed the right time. I’ve been interested in Can since reading a review
of Pink Floyd’s Saucerful Of Secrets in the late ’80s where the journalist compared
it to Can’s Monster Movie. It took me years to obtain any Can at all though, the LPs
seemed unobtainable at that time. It was only until a few years later when joining
The Heads that I could listen to these records as the band worked in Replay Records
and had decent collections. At the time, the reissues were £15 each and that’s a lot
of money when you’re a struggling musician on the dole. When Julian Cope published
Krautrocksampler in the mid-90s that opened the gates even more. The music seemed
ahead of its time; it was created in a country whose counterculture desired complete
reinvention.
‘‘Some of the tracks I have done as Anthroprophh could have been presented to The
Heads, but they would have sounded different when passed through The Heads filter.
Initially, I saw the two bands as separate projects, but now Anthroprophh is the only
means by which I create new material and perform. I’ve tried to avoid more riff-based
music so far... but I can’t say whether that will change in the future. I haven’t felt any
burden of expectation at all. It’s just been a struggle as with any band starting out.
I’ve had a few breaks and support due to The Heads legacy but it’s been hard work and
we are slowly gaining some momentum now. The name Anthroprophh is bit ridiculous
though, which doesn’t necessarily help.’’
13
Les Big Byrd
As two new Swedish bands – THE JANITORS and
LES BIG BYRD – play The Liverpool Psych Fest,
JOHAN JACOBSSON looks back at the origins of the
nation’s freak scene and its open-minded outlook
In 1958 the Swedish safety service engineer Nils Bohlin patented the three-point seat
belt – a perfect marriage between nationality and invention. Because in the popular
imagination the entire country of Sweden is rather like a three-point seat belt: safe,
utilitarian, overprotective, and buttoned-down. Contrary to popular myth though
Swedes do not – like in Italian director Luigi Scattini’s marvellous mondo film Sweden:
Heaven And Hell (1968) – spend their days having salacious sex and their nights
committing suicide. No, what a real dyed-in-the-wool Swede likes to do is to stand in
an orderly queue, eat whole-grain crisp bread and fill out complicated tax forms… or
at least that’s what some people would like you to think.
The truth about Sweden and its Swedes is, of course, somewhat more complex. To
paraphrase bowler Jacques in The Simpsons episode ‘Life On The Fast Lane’: “It’s not
quite a Nanny State, it’s not quite a free-for-all love fest, but it comes with a handful
of lingonberries at the end.”
One thing, however, can unequivocally be said about Sweden – over the years much
magnificent psychedelic music has been made here. Sixties and ’70s acts like Mecki
Mark Men, Pärson Sound (and their descendants International Harvester, Harvester
and Träd, Gräs & Stenar), Turid, Baby Grandmothers, Arbete Och Fritid, Joakim
Skogsberg, Hansson & Karlsson (as well as Bo Hansson), Älgarnas Trädgård and Pugh
Rogefeldt are all household names for the discerning psych head. Additionally – and
praise the deity of your choice – Sweden’s psychedelic glories are not all in the past;
new mind-bending and mind-expanding bands are blowing up all over this place.
Stockholm’s Henric Herlenius plays guitar in The Janitors, one of these new bands.
“I think it was [Vice offshoot] Noisey that wrote that for a country with a very strict
anti-drug legislation there is a remarkable number of psychedelic bands coming out
of Sweden right now,” he smiles when asked to share his thoughts about Sweden as a
wellspring for psych. “Personally I’m inclined to believe that the Swedish model – the
regimentation of expression and architecture – enforces a need for monotony and noise.”
If one tries to find a common red thread running through all Swedish psych groups
one has to try hard, though. “Yes, for instance I don’t think there is such a thing as a
Swedish psychedelic sound,” Henric agrees. “Everybody – from Goat to Les Big Byrd
to Sudakistan to Technicolor Poets to This Is Head to Silverbullit to Dungen to us – is
moving in different directions. We all like fuzz pedals, echo and repetition, but that’s
about it.”
The multi-talented Stockholmer Joakim Åhlund – one of the four pieces that make
up the aforementioned Les Big Byrd – is equally unwilling to be labelled, defined,
tied-down.
14
“No, I wouldn’t say that we in Les Big Byrd
are administering a Swedish psych legacy,”
he states after some pondering. “Of course
we’re proud of all the great music that’s come
from Sweden, and maybe we’re a small branch
on a big tree, but I’m not sure that we represent
‘psychedelia’ and I think ‘administer’ sounds too
responsibly. We want to be free to do what we feel.
There’s as much Suicide and Kraftwerk in our sound as
there is Neu!, Can and Träd, Gräs & Stenar.”
Correspondingly with these (commendable) sentiments
it’s nearly impossible to talk about a real, concrete and
contemporary Swedish psychedelic scene. Sure, from Umeå
in the north to Malmö in the south clubs are putting on all night
happenings – and the now two year old Psykjunta festival is rapidly
becoming the event of the kaleidoscopic Swedish summer – but there’s
not much in the way of coordinated psychedelic camaraderie currently
going on in Sweden. Between autumn 1967 and January ’68, in contrast,
the Stockholm nightclub Filips was the undisputed focal point of Swedish
psych; all the bands that played there and the people that watched them were
part of a very active scene. Yet today…
“The scene is starting to grow,” Henric explains. “Lots of small enclaves have
now found a home beneath the big psych umbrella. The Swedish kraut scene – which
has been happily simmering away for quite some time now – has given birth to a
number of groups. And in Malmö all the psych bands stick together, but in Stockholm
we don’t form those kinds of collectives for some reason. Although, really, what’s
remarkable is that there’s a huge international community of psychedelic bands,
promoters, record labels, blogs and fans and that in it everybody helps and supports
each other.”
Like the Vikings of the 9th to 11th centuries – excuse me for borrowing another
image from the cabinet marked “Clichés and overused similes” – a group of Swedish
psych devotees is set to soon invade England. Liverpool International Festival Of
Psychedelia will host a bunch of Swedish psych groups, among them The Janitors and
Les Big Byrd.
What can we – the fans, the crowd – expect?
“We’d love it if we could get an hour or more of stage time so that we can take a
trip together with the audience,” Joakim says. “It would be fun if the gig could take its
time, bloom, go through various phases – we do love to improvise on stage. The best
thing in the world is to turn an audience into a single large dancing, swinging blob of
vibrations.
“Lots of new material,” Henric reveals. “We’ll release a 12” on Danish label Bad
Afro on September 22nd and right now we’re writing and recording material for the
follow up to [our debut full-length] Drone Head, which will come out next year on
Cardinal Fuzz. So we’ll premiere a few songs from these releases. I also have this idea
to gather all Swedes present at Liverpool Psych Fest and transform LCD Soundsystem’s
‘New York, I Love You But You’re Bringing Me Down’ into ‘Sweden, I Love You But You’re
Bringing Me Down’ – an answer to the disgusting rise of fascism in Europe. I’m thinking
20 guitars and a cascade of feedback could go into the history books.”
The Janitors
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THE BEST OBSCURE
PSYCH MAILORDER!!
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The Psychedelic Spirit
in the 21st Century
Reverberate No.2 Editor Harry Sword harry@shindig-magazine.com Contributors: Ben Graham, Corrina Greyson, Dan Hunter, Phil Istine, Johan Jacobsson, Rhonda
Lee Reali Shindig! Editor-In-Chief: Jon ‘Mojo’ Mills jon@shindig-magazine.com Associate Editor: Andy Morten andy@shindig-magazine.com Publisher: Slim
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