Post by thesoundmonitor on Feb 7, 2004 19:42:59 GMT -5
THE BEVIS FROND
Triptych
(Rubric Records) RUB20
As a long-time Bevis Frond fanatic, I clearly remember heading into Midnight Records in New York City when Triptych first saw the light of day as a vinyl-only release on the mighty Woronzow label back in 1988. Even then a new Bevis record was cause for celebration, so in no time I caught the subway home for a preview. Ah, there's nothing quite like that moment of anticipation when the needle hits the groove and the first notes shimmer through the air...
I do admit that the cover surprised me. I already had the first two official releases, (Miasma and Inner Marshland) and loved Cyke Bancroft's alien line drawings on the covers. The artwork fairly shrieked "underground," and it was a perfect complement to the music. So there was a bit of worry when I spied the new cover: what's all this about
gargoyles and cemetery angels? It turned out that any worry was needless, as Triptych stands toe to toe with the first two albums, and most of what's come after them as well. Like the first two, its full of lunacy, heaviness, brilliant songcraft, even more brilliant lyrics, and enough psychedelia to affect London's water supply for a year. Bevis' Nick Salomon played all the instruments, and the guy's talent is simply unquestionable. Its all wrapped up with a four-track, low-to-mid-fi sound that gives it a trebly sheen that somehow makes it seem even more underground. When you were into Bevis in those days you always had the feeling that it was just Nick and you, huddled around your stereo, mulling over the issues of the world as seen through a lens ground by Sandoz labs.
Classic follows classic on this disc. 'Debbie's New Song For Drums' features a then-toddling young Debbie Saloman beating chopsticks on some plastic bowls,
which is followed by the Byrdsian 'Lights are Changing,' a poetic ode to the aging process later covered by Mary Lou Lord. Next is the Hendrixian 'Gemini Machine,' also covered in an amazing fashion on the first Outskirts of Infinity album, Lord of the
Dark Skies. Nick played bass on that essential platter. 'Nowhere Fast' is a punky tune reminiscent of Greg Sage and his Wipers, while 'Tangerine Infringement Beak' is a nearly 20 minute long psychedelic opus about.... the judicial system? Whoah. Last is the classic 'Hey Joe,' which seems to owe a lot more to The Leaves than to Hendrix. There's
also 20+ minutes of extras that were not included on the original vinyl, including 'Got to Unwind,' which focusses on Bevis' ever-present gift for melody.
I love rediscovering classics like this. The trouble is, chronologically speaking, Triptych falls in between the psychedelic monstrosity known as Inner Marshland and New River Head, which to me is still the ultimate Bevis statement. So it tends to get overlooked. Well, not no more no how. Hearing this again reminds me of those halcyon days before the stoner/doom explosion of the 90s, when I was always hungry for the best in new psychedelia. Triptych satisfies to the point where you're stuffed with hallucinogenic goodness and one more song would make you explode like Mr. Creosote eating an after-dinner mint. Don't miss it.
Review by Kevin McHugh
Artist website: n/a
Label website: www.rubricrecords.com
Buy this album: www.rubricrecords.com
Triptych
(Rubric Records) RUB20
As a long-time Bevis Frond fanatic, I clearly remember heading into Midnight Records in New York City when Triptych first saw the light of day as a vinyl-only release on the mighty Woronzow label back in 1988. Even then a new Bevis record was cause for celebration, so in no time I caught the subway home for a preview. Ah, there's nothing quite like that moment of anticipation when the needle hits the groove and the first notes shimmer through the air...
I do admit that the cover surprised me. I already had the first two official releases, (Miasma and Inner Marshland) and loved Cyke Bancroft's alien line drawings on the covers. The artwork fairly shrieked "underground," and it was a perfect complement to the music. So there was a bit of worry when I spied the new cover: what's all this about
gargoyles and cemetery angels? It turned out that any worry was needless, as Triptych stands toe to toe with the first two albums, and most of what's come after them as well. Like the first two, its full of lunacy, heaviness, brilliant songcraft, even more brilliant lyrics, and enough psychedelia to affect London's water supply for a year. Bevis' Nick Salomon played all the instruments, and the guy's talent is simply unquestionable. Its all wrapped up with a four-track, low-to-mid-fi sound that gives it a trebly sheen that somehow makes it seem even more underground. When you were into Bevis in those days you always had the feeling that it was just Nick and you, huddled around your stereo, mulling over the issues of the world as seen through a lens ground by Sandoz labs.
Classic follows classic on this disc. 'Debbie's New Song For Drums' features a then-toddling young Debbie Saloman beating chopsticks on some plastic bowls,
which is followed by the Byrdsian 'Lights are Changing,' a poetic ode to the aging process later covered by Mary Lou Lord. Next is the Hendrixian 'Gemini Machine,' also covered in an amazing fashion on the first Outskirts of Infinity album, Lord of the
Dark Skies. Nick played bass on that essential platter. 'Nowhere Fast' is a punky tune reminiscent of Greg Sage and his Wipers, while 'Tangerine Infringement Beak' is a nearly 20 minute long psychedelic opus about.... the judicial system? Whoah. Last is the classic 'Hey Joe,' which seems to owe a lot more to The Leaves than to Hendrix. There's
also 20+ minutes of extras that were not included on the original vinyl, including 'Got to Unwind,' which focusses on Bevis' ever-present gift for melody.
I love rediscovering classics like this. The trouble is, chronologically speaking, Triptych falls in between the psychedelic monstrosity known as Inner Marshland and New River Head, which to me is still the ultimate Bevis statement. So it tends to get overlooked. Well, not no more no how. Hearing this again reminds me of those halcyon days before the stoner/doom explosion of the 90s, when I was always hungry for the best in new psychedelia. Triptych satisfies to the point where you're stuffed with hallucinogenic goodness and one more song would make you explode like Mr. Creosote eating an after-dinner mint. Don't miss it.
Review by Kevin McHugh
Artist website: n/a
Label website: www.rubricrecords.com
Buy this album: www.rubricrecords.com