- Format: MP3
-Dominique Leone, February 4th, 2002:
There are thousands of them out there. The people who toil away the hours by setting up mics in the hallway, bouncing track after track of sound on their four-tracks, ensuring that independent music can never die. On one hand, it's very easy to romanticize this kind of thing: musicians who do their work with no guarantee of ever being heard are sort of like monks, practicing their arts far away from civilization, completely at odds with what the material world would have them accomplish. How noble, to stick so closely to their ideals, that they would work so hard for no apparent reward other than hearing the sounds in their heads played back.
On the other hand, theoretically, anyone can do this. Go pick up a recorder, and sing and play and bounce to your heart's content. As Milhouse said, "Fun is fun," but some of us have to listen to the stuff, too. It would be nice if everyone who was taping themselves made good music, but often (and I can personally attest to this), the music is like an inside joke only understood by the teller, and perhaps a few of his best friends.
Of course, sometimes people are forced into this method due to circumstances. In other words, if you don't have the cash or label support to record in a big, fancy studio, how else to make music but by recording at your house or garage? In a perfect world, the Music God would automatically give the most visionary musicians record contracts, but as it is, the kids will have to make do with what they have. I imagine Canada's Greg Watson is one of these types, masterfully producing his own stuff because nobody else will.
Watson's virtual one-man show, the Orange Alabaster Mushroom, plays amazingly well-crafted psychedelic pop, generally from the British angle. He started recording in 1991 under this moniker after working with a band called the 14th Wray. His first music was actually issued under their name, despite being almost entirely written and recorded by Watson. He did eventually end up recording in a proper studio in the late 90s, though the results retained his DIY aesthetic and only emphasized how spot-on his psych arrangements were.
As for the music, I'd say the Dukes of Stratosphear have nothing on this guy. I don't generally go out of my way to listen to anything that resembles a genre exercise, but the Orange Alabaster Mushroom is so amazingly precise in its depiction of '66-'67 era British psychedelia I'm drawn into the stuff by its sheer persistence. And to top it off, these are very good tunes-- what's the value in copying anything verbatim? Watson's music would sit well on a shelf next to Nuggets, and that's the best compliment I can give this release.
Space & Time: A Compendium of the Orange Alabaster Mushroom is a compilation of material released from 1991 through 1998. Watson recorded most of it on four-track, but a few tracks, as mentioned earlier were done on eight-track in a studio. "Your Face Is in My Mind" is actually one of the few American-flavored tracks, recalling bands like the Seeds or ? and the Mysterions with raging Farfisa organ and raucous garage-grunge guitar. The opening organ exposition, which actually reminds me of Iron Butterfly more than anyone else, is alone worth the price of admission. And check this: "Your face has left impressions/ Deep inside my cranium/ And when those thoughts are realized/ It's here I find/ That your face is in my mind." That's a lyric, my friend, which Watson delivers with whiny, crass sincerity.
No great psychedelic band could exist without its own title song. Watson's "We Are the Orange Alabaster Mushroom" fits the bill here, and is prime Small Faces, circa Ogden's Nut Gone Flake, with its anthemic chorus and aggressive drumming. "Sunny Day" is a tart slice of music-hall, while "Tree Pie" gets by on sheer aggression and hyped up soul power, courtesy of harmony vocals in overdrive and a guitar solo so of a different era that I wonder if the Seeds' Jan Savage wasn't beamed in for the occasion. (By the way, Jan, where are you?)
Other tunes take the softer approach: "Another Place" features a rather beautiful guitar line, and telling lines like, "I don't belong here, though there is another place I can go." Watson's vocals are still in trebly, whiny mode, yet he manages to bring out some inherent sweetness in this music. Another charmer is "Valerie Vanillaroma," featuring nice Byrds-y twelve-string guitar and relatively smooth harmony vocals. The bridge's guitar and organ hits are classic, and if there's a fourth "Austin Powers" movie (as if I had a doubt), they need to get Watson to write the love theme.
If psychedelic isn't your thing, then obviously this album isn't for you. Furthermore, if hearing vinyl ticks on a CD (this collection is a re-release of a vinyl set from 1999, and they apparently just took the old records and transferred them to compact disc), then you might get annoyed with this. However, you can only dog on addictively catchy, well made psych-pop for so long before giving in to the groovy sounds. No, this record isn't a major statement, but it is almost flawlessly executed. Chalk one up to the bedroom musician for keeping this music alive.