Terry Riley

Persian Surgery Dervishes

http://www.mediafire.com/?jglndi3mn4m

Terry Riley embodies the essence of minimalism. His music has always tapped into the primal recesses of my brain and lured me into some pretty deep meditative states. His mastery isn’t a surprise since he learned under the tutleage of the master of Indian classical music, Pandit Pran Nath, who has also blown a few of my synapses over the years. His devotion to the open-ended nature of composition and performance via his series of All-Night Concerts in the 60s and divine patience in developing themes only to allow them to morph into something even more transcendent is awe-inspiring in my grubby book. Plus, I like the idea of how he would invite people to bring sleeping bags and pillows to his All-Night Concerts so he could play tape-delayed saxophone and the harmonium until sunrise.  I can only imagine what it would be like to experience the incessant undulation and shifts in tone as Riley whisked all of his willing passengers into a trance state. Maybe I am just a born sucker for the hypnotic powers of a slowly developing riff or composition, but my weary heart wishes it could be a part of such a near-religious experience. Alright, enough of my pseudo-mystical banter and butchered romanticism toward altered states of mind, let’s get to the nitty gritty of what makes Persian Surgery Dervishes a welcome addition to my life.

I don’t have the second half of the double cd which collects these dual performance of Persian Surgery Dervishes, but the one pasted here includes a 1971 performance in Los Angeles. I prefer this one over the Paris performance since it is somehow more damaged, yet serene. I am drawn to Persian Surgery Dervishes since there is so much accomplished with two distinct elements. You have a slow-motion organ riff that kind of percolates in the background. It really doesn’t deviate much from its bearings. Its job is to throb in the background while Riley goes bananas on an electric organ. This second element is essential to the piece since it is the motor which drives the composition. Well, this motor gets quite revved up at times, but doesn’t really go anywhere. It is static, yet incredibly busy at time. Riley knows the allure of restraint and pacing and slowly builds from a sensual tease to a goddamn psychedelic frenzy. He really beats the shit out the organ when the piece gets hectic. It’s even hard to type this as I listen to it since there are sections which make your brain feel like taffy left on the radiator for the night. There isn’t really any concessions to melody, but to twisting patterns that kind of collide and coalesce into something larger than the previous motif.  For me, it mimics the many thoughts that bounce around in our minds. There is something soothing about examining one’s life closely and traversing the pathways of thought. Somehow, Persian Surgery Dervishes is the perfect companion for those times when you find yourself in the eye of the storm and can lucidly examine the reasons behind the tumult and transition. Again, I am getting a but too heavy for my own good, so let’s just say that it’ll blow your boo-boo loose and make cole slaw out of your cabbage.

Crystallized Movements

Revelations from Pandemonium

http://www.mediafire.com/?3osgyictj1l

This was Crystallized Movements’ finale and it was a perfect summary of all that was great about this band while pointing towards the psychedelic balladry of Magic Hour as well as the crushing heaviness of Major Stars. In my humble opinion, both of these later projects are superior to Crystallized Movements attempts to combine the two, but Revelations From Pandemonium straddled the line so well.

The core unit of all of these acts are Wayne Rogers and Kate Biggar, who run Twisted Village, an influential label and records store. They have had a hand in many releases on the label by B.O.R.B. and Vermonster. You can count on the Twisted Village label if you love fried, amp-destroying feedback with a taste for the 60s.

If I had to sum up Revelations From Pandemonium, it would be “fuzzy.” I guess a lazy comparison would be to Sonic Youth’s Sister and EVOL filtered through psych-folk, but then again that doesn’t do it total justice. Wayne Rogers’ guitar playing is kaleidoscopic in that so many sounds can be perceived in his lo-fi wall of sound. His playing is majestic and regal when he avoids the noise and reels off a riff worthy of Jimi Hendrix Randy Holden. His vocals are deadpan and don’t add much, the lyrics are meaningless, but his voice works because it adds a monotone accent on the main attraction–the instrumental brilliance of this band.

This album is an acquired taste and requires a few listens to grasp its brilliance, but anyone in love with scruffy psychedelia will eventually find much to love.

Os Mutantes

Cavaleiros Negros EP (1976)

http://www.mediafire.com/?9zuskbeowql

I hold the unpopular opinion that Os Mutantes did their best work from 1973-76, after Rita Lee had left and the drugs were in high supply. This is their final studio work from 1976, just a three song single. I believe this material was also released on a rather spotty rarities collection of the same name. The sound quality isn’t perfect, and there isn’t much to say about the overall originality of these tunes- they’re basically channeling the big groups (namely Yes) from years earlier. However, in my mind the first song “Cavaleiros Negros” might be the best example of how fantastic symphonic prog could be regardless of originality. An extended, somewhat psychedelic intro building to beautiful guitar and keyboard interplay giving way to the most mind blowing synth climax I’ve ever heard about six and a half minutes in. The best song I’ve ever heard without a doubt. The other two songs are awesome, too. An Os Mutantes fan won’t necessarily enjoy this EP, but it’s certainly my favourite of their discography.

The Moles

Untune the Sky

http://www.divshare.com/download/4701063-8ce

I don’t say this often or maybe I do, but this is one of the top ten albums ever. I don’t expect all of you to agree because this decision is based on a deep love of the Flying Nun label, grubby pop epics, the Beatles and kitchen sink attempts at grandeur. Their frontman, Richard Davies, went on to achieve further brilliance with Eric Matthews in Cardinal and embarked on a foppish direction under his own name. All he has touched is pretty essential, but this collection of their singles and earliest works is the premature pinnacle of a worthwhile career.

Listening to this it is hard to believe it was conceived in Australia instead of New Zealand because it sounds as if the hand of Flying Nun uber producer Chris Knox has mucked with some of these tracks. Then you hear a track like “What’s the New Mary Jane” and you realize that this band had far grander aims than some obscure slot on a mixtape. If you sank some money into a creme de la creme studio and producer, it would have begat brilliance or a red hot mess. Me, I shall never know, but think about the possibilities of this band whenever I listen to this one.

This is a trite and pointless statement, but this would be dry humped by 60s aficionados if released in the way back when. However, its lineage isn’t traced to the “brah, yeah” or magical dragons in my hamper ethos of 60s Nuggets and psych, but a unlikely combo of the Beatles, Kiwipop, 90s indie pop and the pastoral charms of Bill Fay’s work if he were more inclined to cheer up.