RidingEasy Records is back with another round of obscure, rare stoner rock, metal, and psychedelia on Brown Acid: The Twelfth Trip. This one brings you ten tunes that stretch from Hawaii to Belgium in terms of their places of origin.
First up is the fuzz-filled “Mother Samwell” by Louisville, Kentucy’s The Water. It’s like T. Rex meets The Guess Who and 1969 southern rock. It fades out far too soon and makes you wish The Water had stuck around after 1972. Hamilton, Ontario’s Village S.T.O.P. brings us the trippy, melting, fuzzy freak-out “Vibrations.” The drums sound like they were recorded in another room with walls of chicken wire and mud, and I mean that in the best way possible.
The bass on White Lightning‘s (hailing from Minneapolis) “1930” is so fat you could stick it on a Parliament track. Shane drops the funky, yet heavy “Woman (Don’t You Go)” from the San Francisco Bay area in 1968…and nothing else. They broke up not long after releasing the track, which is a shame because it sounds like they could’ve been a pretty successful psych-funk band.
Dallas’ Ace Song Service unleashes a hefty Hammond B3 organ on “Persuasion,” and combines it with a sizzling guitar solo. Opus Est is the Belgian band on the record, and their heady song “Bed” is about sex and, apparently, and drugs and rock and roll (Go figure.). The aforementioned Hawaiian band is The Mopptops, who are described in the liner notes as “the Blues Magoos meets Iron Butterfly.” I don’t think I can sum it up better than that (or that wild guitar solo!).
Do you need more cowbell? Youngstown, Ohio’s Artist gives you plenty of it (and plenty of mega-riffs) on “Every Lady Does It.” “Comin’ Home” by Carthage, Missouri’s Stagefright is akin to a MC5 track with its wild drumming, fuzzy vocals, and heavy guitar and bass. The closing track is the wonderfully bizarre, ultra-rare “Don’t Talk About My Music” by Dickens – a band made up of members of and roadies for NRBQ who barely knew how to play the instruments they jam with and recorded in an impromptu session after Jim Nabors cancelled some studio time. The result is a trippy, fun jam of which only fifty or so known copies are in existence. It’s a great treat to end a wild anthology.
Keep your mind open.
[Trip over to the subscription box while you’re here.]
[Thanks to Dave at US / THEM Group.]
