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Rating: It had been about a year and a half, towards the end of the '80s, that I had been dabbling in Californian trance with the classic Savage Republic and then For Against, Shiva Burlesque, Abecedarians, Drowning Pool, and a few others: "But how come you don't have our compilation yet?" Domenico from Disfunzioni Musicali gently reproached me. In the rush of other "deep" Golden State acquisitions, I had let the purchase slip.
The copy arrived, smelling of mildew from the cellar, and even the substantial bootleg attached, strictly written in Italian, wafted cavernous odors. At home, I put on the vinyl, and a remarkable piece by the 17 Pygmies starts, already a great beginning.
It's when the pieces by Randall Kennedy take shape that things start to get terribly "serious." If I had to give a pure definition of underground, I would rely exclusively on those superb three pieces of genuinely "never-ending night."
After the dust of the catacombs dug by Mark Nine's guitar-fretter, there is a rather heavy perpetuation by Carl Stone with the reiterated "sonorities" of the eternal return, which provoke an esoteric nausea in their noisy and cynical ambient progression.
The intoxication of the first side continues on the second, where the Bay of Pigs proposes a hymn to the nonsense of avoiding categorizations with their bagpipes seemingly mocking the deceit of dual compartmentalization.
Drowning Pool reinforces the estrangement with their amniotic "festival." Following this, the two pieces by Savage Republic offer a bit of comfort with their tribal alien, alleviating the doubts instilled by the diversification of musical spectrums.
But then the invisible blade falls mercilessly in the last piece "Prologue" by the Bay of Pigs/Koichi Nagai duo, where communication occurs at the psychic level, and where emotions are not just associated with words expressing feelings.
The substantial booklet that accompanies the sound covers all seasonal changes, allowing us to partake in unknown music that doesn't play the dance of induced reality. Instead, it gratifies with its eclecticism, opening up parallel visions and floating in a free zone where our standstill is clearly visible.
But the solvent seems to work...
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