Never trust a cliché…

A sound bite can mean a lot in politics but it can be utterly devastating in music.

A simple barbed couplet can sink an entire genre if it’s pointed enough.

I remember the first time that I watched “The Great Rock ‘n Roll Swindle” and that stickiest of all music critiques was spat out into my living room:

“Never trust a Hippy”

Now it’s a phrase that even Mr. Lydon has grown tired of explaining but it’s a perfect example of the power of words.  

That phrase annihilated all before it in the Post-Punk years. Suddenly the counter culture establishment looked naïve and faintly embarrassing.

Of course the irony is that whatever Punk claimed to have knocked down had already been pummeled on the ropes for a decade by the (now bloated), heavyweight champs of Psychedelia.

Hindsight allows us to see that the Punks were every bit as untrustworthy as their predecessors.

That derisory phrase labeled every long hair gutless, but in 20/20 hindsight? I'm not so sure. I would venture that it took a lot more chutzpah to wear a Kaftan at a peace rally in Lubbock Texas than it ever did to sport a Mohican on the commute into the 100 Club.

However the nuclear strength sound bite “Never trust a Hippy” meant that for years many of us actively ignored all but the headline acts of the 1960’s.

Personally, I thank my lucky stars for my days in the record shop, where I was exposed to a treasure trove of Psychedelia by a few ageing Hippies that I grew to trust.

I have an eclectic palette thanks to that shop and of all the genres I enjoy I think my favourite has to be 60’s Psychedelia.

You see Psychedelia is the only form of music that is defined solely by its ideas.

Think about it… every other form of music is defined by a musical mechanic, a sound or an accident of Geography.

Blues has its 12 bars, Reggae its offbeat, Jazz its compulsory improvisation and so on. You could argue that Post Punk offers an equally random platter but that label was predominantly a retrospective net, which caught many smaller fish that really had no idea how they came to be there.

Psychedelia was different – it was the zeitgeist that everyone knew about and yet there was no specific instrumentation, no musical mechanic and no geographical boundary to define it.

The only common denominator in Psychedelic music of the period was the imperative that the music should ‘blow your mind’.

Everyone knew they had to ‘go Psychedelic’ but very few people really had any clue as to what that really meant. It wasn’t just about the drugs (in all honesty only a few people had full access to such things), but the culture, the arts and the fashion.

As a result of this an amazing thing happened. Faced with being labeled uncool everyone felt compelled to ‘do their thing’.

This might not seem so revolutionary in the information age but the social norms of the time were infinitely more constricted then they are today and finding like-minded people was a geographical challenge. It’s a recurring theme of this blog that the dissemination of information via the Internet is the biggest change to music and culture that those of you under 20 will never really need to be aware of.

Back then you had to ring someone, to ring someone, to ring someone to get them to ring someone you wanted to ring in the states. Five minutes of communication could take hours to set up so when The Beatles sang “All you need is love” via the world’s first live satellite link up you saw the vaguest of ideas carry further and faster than any other idea in history.

Everybody had to have a take on this counter culture from Newcastle to New York. 

Can you dig it?

GO CRAZY!

JAM THAT SHIT OUT!

DO YOUR THING! ER... maybe?

OK… so inevitably it did also lead to a lot of shit being produced but the mantra of experimentation did make a difference. It released more ‘cats’ from their colloquial bags than Julian Assange on free broadband.

And don’t believe the hype, it wasn’t all peace and flowers – some of these cats were angry.

The fact was that you could be just as ‘Psychedelic’ as a solo singer songwriter as you could be with an army of freaks running rampage in the studio.

The legacy wasn’t just political daydreaming, badly dressed flunkies and the admitted self-indulgence the era encouraged. I contend that no other genre has ever been so inclusive; all you needed was your imagination.

I’m not saying the whole thing didn’t eventually spiral out of control (as every movement does), but for a time the grass really was greener.

Personally I was down with the peace and love thing too.

THE SEVEN GIFTS OF PSYCHEDELIA

Take off that uniform!

When The Beatles first showed up in their ‘Monkee’ suits it was their audacity to grow their hair that set the world aghast. By the time they split up even the Bank Manager was wearing flares. This outlandish fashion paved the way for Glam and in some cases naked people.

Take your time man!

Singles used to be utterly formulaic in their size. The tyranny of the 3 minute single was deposed when Brian Wilson produced the magnificent Beach Boys single ‘Good Vibrations’. At 6 minutes it was the longest number one single ever and I defy anyone to shave even a second off it without detracting from the pocket symphony that Wilson dared to create. Im sure you have heard that so instead I'll offer this amazing album track from the original 'Smile' sessions wherein Brian Wilson left his mind for 30 years.

Make an album man, express yourself!

In keeping with the growing attention span of the audience record companies began to back the long-playing record as their format of choice. The exec’s liked the profit margins, the artists liked the room to express themselves and the punters were grateful to have enough time to roll a joint and have a cup of tea before they had to reload the record player.  30-45 minutes is still the optimum length of time for an album to last. Any less and it’s hard to make a rounded statement, any more and your attention starts to wander. How many modern albums have been watered down and ruined by the urge to fill the space on a CD?

Art matters! Make an object to savour!

The gatefold - the sleeve notes - the complimentary artwork ... let me explain:

Here is your iTunes 'Beatles Ltd Ed Box Set':

[              ]

Nice eh? Here's mine:

 I fucking WIN! #tigerblood

The studio as an instrument!

Bands used to be ushered in and out of the recording booth like cattle. As the 1960’s matured however the dark arts of studio production became an open secret. As an example The Beatles and George Martin recorded the album Please, Please Me (1963) in 9 hours and 45 minutes, Abbey Road (recorded in 1969) took 6 months to complete.

Festivals!

You would have no Glastonbury, Donnington, Knebworth... dare I say it? ‘The Wireless Festival’ - without the wildebeast hordes that colonized the plains of Woodstock and the Isle of White. Live music was never the same once the scale was ramped up, and while the mobile phone companies try to emulate these happenings they will never get it, ironically they are just not tuned in.

Political rebellion!

At last pop music started to develop more challenging content and started singing *about* something. Maybe sitting in a hotel room ‘growing your hair for peace’ was a little outlandish but there was a charm in much of the rebellion that cynics will never understand.

Strawberries mean love.

Peace,

@eops

My latest Psychedelic mix:

Tribute to Captain Beefheart RIP

And for those of you who thought it all begins and ends with The Beatles... heres 5 classic British eye openers:

The Pretty Things – SF Sorrow

The Zombies – Odyssey and Oracle

Skip Bifferty – Skip Bifferty

July – July

Family – Music in a dolls house  

And finally heres my Psychedelic Triptic for the music lover with time on their hands:

http://soundcloud.com/eops/part-1-happy-trails

http://soundcloud.com/eops/part-2-observations-from-a-hill

http://soundcloud.com/eops/part-3-headshop

Please follow, leave a comment, RT, Facebook or whatever it is you do - thanks!

Xerox jigsaws, the truth of Lo-Fidelity and why you should hunt down the Yeti.

I admit it. I am a self-aggrandizing ‘muso’ who thinks he knows where to look for the things he likes. More often than not it is The Record Shop; I am that sad bloke in the corner, nodding sagely from behind my headphones. Then there’s The Internet; it suits my self imposed cultural dictatorship, enables me to cherry pick like never before and to bypass a lot of the clutter. This probably makes me even more unbearable - sorry about that.

It wasn’t always so easy to disseminate information. Time was, if you wanted hand picked monochrome subject matter unconcerned with fashion, you would have to search out a fanzine.

*Zines*… (Historical):

Xerox jigsaw puzzles painstakingly assembled, corrected with Tippex and glued together by hand en route to the record shop. Fanzines used to be such ambitious works of love that you knew it was either going to be made by someone worth speaking too, or by someone who would have difficulty speaking in public – often both.

You see all that really matters in music is ‘truth’ – you have to mean it. Style, genre, audio quality are just window dressing – the power is in the sound of a human being committing themselves, whether that’s through opera, punk rock or gospel music.

Fanzines were things made with religious zeal by people who were inspired to spread the truth they found in music. Why else would you stay up all night ‘cutting and pasting’ in ‘meat world’ - a galaxy far, far away from the coming magic of Photoshop and the Internet? 

Yeti the ‘general interest magazine for people with minority interests’ was founded by genial obsessive Mike McGonigal in the year 2000. For me it is the pinnacle in the evolution of the fanzine. It’s a stylish coffee table book the size of a paperback that comes with an eclectic audio CD packed with lost treasures.

You know that band you were in? You know that one decent track you lost in the hiss of a Ferric Oxide cassette? Well the chances are Yeti have the demo tape. McGonigal is the curator at a ‘museum obscura’ finding wonder in his work at every turn. Rescuing scratchy acetate recordings, bedroom demos and hastily arranged live sessions from the most unlikely of sources.

A gospel DJ with a ridiculous knowledge of American roots music, he seems to revel as much in songs aimed at the Lord as he does in songs by suburban kids who believe in nothing. He manages to combine these oddities with such conviction you just have to strap yourself in and enjoy the ride.

Blind Willie Johnson – Dark was the night, cold was the ground (Yeti 5)

 Take a deep breath my muso brethren, Im going to invoke the name of John Peel.

I do so with reverence simply because I cant think of another DJ who could make me listen to a two minute recording of water falling into a bucket wedged in between a vintage gospel 78 and a ‘No-wave’ demo by an earnest young college drop out and still make it seem worth my while. I imagine Fabric will be on the phone to him as we speak.

There are some genuine discoveries to be had too; Dum Dum Girls, Wooden Shjips, Iron & Wine, Grouper and the Jacuzzi Boys are all upwardly mobile groups who first came to my attention via Yeti. The most precious discoveries however are often reclaimed from dusty old recordings found in thrift shops and long forgotten private collections. 

Wooden Shjips – Out of my head (Yeti 7)

 The music is only one part of the package however. Exercise book prose, vintage transcriptions, opinion and poetry (from people who you almost certainly haven’t heard of) are all championed within the delightfully illustrated pages of Yeti.

One typically left field feature was a collection of photographs of a long deserted funfair ‘Shiga Prefecture’ in Japan. They were introduced by Olivier Malosse with the following byline:

“‘You might have seen these images on the internet. 'If you are like us, you thought, “Golly, it sure would be better to see these things smaller, and in black and white!” So here they are, person like us.”

This is the essence of Yeti.

Today I can send my demo around the world in an instant, find a fellow fan of anything, anywhere, at anytime, but I’m often unsure of what it is I’m really searching for – and really don’t know who to trust to help me find it. Meanwhile so many demo tapes and live recordings are slowly disappearing into the outdated dissonance of chrome cassettes and crackling test presses.

I’m glad there’s someone like Mike McGonigal out there cataloguing all the things I didn’t know I was missing. He is a guide worth trusting because if nothing else his magical mystery tours always avoid the standard tourist traps.

The word is that Yeti may soon move away from their 20+ track compact discs and into limited 7-inch vinyl runs, this pleases my plastic addiction but Ill morn the passing of such a welcome bulk delivery of oddness.

As for the rest of you – well there’s 10 timeless back issues available, packing an amazing 244 songs and interludes you simply wont find anywhere else.

Do yourself a favour and hunt down the Yeti this year.

Iron & wine – Peng! 33 (Yeti 2)

You can order your copies here ...
http://www.yetipublishing.com/
Yeti Home Page