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Rating: Imagine the scene: about ten years ago, the Y2K nightmare, that ignoble puppet Flat Eric, Aqua's “Barbie Girl,” and a (then) skinny fifteen/sixteen-year-old boy, already a fanatic of any sound that was even slightly distorted and rhythmic, with the exception of the dentist's drill (still a great enemy of this now ex-boy, ex-high school student, ex-skinny but eternally a rocker).
This boy, a bit agitated due to his young age, but who, alongside a practical dynamism typical of being young and rebellious (rebellious towards what? No one ever figured out) associates a personal contemplative philosophy, where rock was experienced as a transcendental if not even mystical experience.
The religion of rock, to be better conceived and experienced, therefore obliged this adept/priest/preacher to the constant and attentive reading of the sacred scripts narrating the epics of its protagonists and the philosophy of which they were conscious minstrels.
The fifteen/sixteen-year-old boy, around 1:30 p.m., on an unspecified day between Monday and Thursday (it wasn't Friday, being the last day of the “work” week, and consequently the happiest, I would have remembered it) enters a well-known bookstore in Chiavari, spending all the time between the end of regular lessons and the start of remedial classes, takes from the raised floor of the bookstore a volume from the GIUNTI editions (I think), it's a little book dedicated to the classics of Heavy Metal.
It's not so much the names, mostly (then) unknown to this youngster raised on bread and Litfiba, that stir curiosity, no, but primarily what catches the eye the most: the covers.
Strong images, powerful colors, give a sense of arrogant vigor and already cited rebellion: there's the monstrous robotic feline of Judas Priest's “Defenders Of The Faith,” the angry and excited face of John Gallagher in Raven's EP “Mad,” and then this cover, without abominable creatures or faces with crazy expressions, no, there aren't even “hysterical” colors to highlight an already imagined atmosphere of unparalleled sonic madness, that cover, so distant in time (early '70s) and space (deepest universe) gave a sense of unease and attraction difficult to describe.
An immense “carpet” of many square rooms, of which the end was not visible on the horizon, overshadowed by an unknown symbol and a dark sky with icy stars acting as guardians in a world –apparently- uninhabited by any form of life.
Okay, we agree that a book or a record shouldn't be judged by the cover, but on the other hand, the eye also wants its share, and that boy –who was none other than myself, was it clear?- influenced by the aesthetics of that front cover of the record recorded in New York about thirty years earlier, began to love what in his opinion is considered as one of the greatest stars-and-stripes bands of all time.
We are talking about the Blue Oyster Cult, and the record in question is indeed the eponymous album recorded in 1971 (released the following year, in January 1972, a few months after the recordings ended); the record that in itself cannot be considered “heavy metal” as currently understood, though sparse in production, presents ten tracks of pure visionary hard rock: both in the musical part and even more in the lyrics, mostly written by the manager-producer -sixth member-friend Sandy Pearlman.
The honor of opening goes to the roaring “Transmaniacon MC,” a sort of anthem of a ramshackle band of satanic bikers, but we hardly notice that in just over three minutes we've already arrived at “I'm on the lamb but I Ain't No Sheep,” I'm a lamb but not a sheep… honestly the meaning of the song still escapes me, it is understood that it talks about a journey in Canadian land, among huskies and glaciers on which sleds run: maybe the members of the Transmaniacon MC are present, leading a race in the land of the maple leaf.
Mystery of the lyrics and appeal of mystery in general, which indeed accompanies the themes of the “American Black Sabbath.”
But here we come to the third track of the long playing, in my personal opinion, the most beautiful of the whole work, and one of the five most beautiful in the entire production of the group: “Then came the last days of May,” lyrics and music entirely written by guitarist Donald Roeser (alias Buck Dharma) who besides demonstrating his vocal ability delights us with delicate yet sustained blues-style phrases.
Mostly cryptic lyrics, the temporal location suggested already in the title, “…then came the last days of May,” but set where? Who are the protagonists of the story? Undefined characters, each with money in their pockets that according to the “narrator” would have taken them far away, but far where? Maybe to the west? But what kind of west is it?
It starts in a “barren land without desert sand” where “the Sun was just a dot” and ends in a “cold and sterile” place.
Perhaps the “sacks and balance to measure things” (who knows what “things”) and “the driver (who) said the border is just the bluff” suggest they are Mexican immigrants, who knows: it is only understood that the story will end badly.
It seems the journey is the main theme of this record, in fact, the fourth track is not coincidentally called “Stairway to the Stars,” which together with the following, “Before the Kiss, a Redcap,” will be one of the band's concert highlights: triggering motives for a rhythm-hungry audience.
Rhythm that is certainly not lacking in the much-renowned and famous “Cities of Flame with Rock and Roll,” which along with the chronologically subsequent “Astronomy,” “Burning for You,” “Godzilla,” and especially “Don’t Fear the Reaper,” will become a trademark of B.O.C..
But let's take small steps, before reaching the aforementioned eighth track, in between come “Screams” and “She’s Beautiful as a Foot”: both shrouded in a halo of darkness, the first marches at a sustained but not intrusive speed, the second instead is decidedly slower and more cadenced. They are connected as if they were a single track, divided only by a drum roll.
After the previously mentioned “Cities of Flame with Rock and Roll,” here comes “Workshop of the Telescopes,” lyrics with scientific-science-fiction or even astronomical references, it goes by quickly, four minutes averagely marked by two very pleasing guitar solos and a fascinating and occult riff.
The closing is given by “Redeemed,” very “easy” sounds, almost country in both sound and lyrics, a classic car radio song… oops… from US highway.
For those like me who own the remastered version on CD, there are also four bonus tracks from a demo recorded on July 21 and September 11, 1969, by the Soft White Underbelly, who would then become the Stalk Forest Group and in 1971, with the entry of Joe Bouchard on bass, definitively into the Blue Oyster Cult: the first three are original tracks (“Donovan’s Monkey,” “What Is Quicksand,” and “A Fact About Sneakers”), and the last a cover of soulman Bobby Freeman, “Betty Lou’s Got a New Pair of Shoes”: the sound is quite different from that of the upcoming BOC, it is akin to a sort of quirky East Coast Doors.
A definitely raw record, but not disparageable for that; undoubtedly epochal though dated, but it's for this reason lovable: a perceivable trace of skill and originality and of a success (more than deserved) that would not be long in coming.
If you find yourself with ten euros in your wallet and don't know how to spend them (maybe they are all in tedious coins) and you feel like listening to some good music, this record could represent for you –dear readers- an invitation to know (for those who unfortunately had no opportunity to be aware of its existence) and to love a unique and unlabelable band, or to love it even more and understand its genesis.
Enjoy listening, and may rock be with you all.
P.S.= As today falls on December 8, my memory goes to two great musicians though of parallelly opposite genres: John Lennon, of whom today marks the thirtieth anniversary of his assassination, and Dimebag Darrell, whose anniversary of his assassination, occurring six years ago, also falls today. For both by a madman.
In any case, bullets are not enough to kill music, good music, the one made with blood, spit, soul, heart, lived day by day, pain for pain, joy for joy, and perceived as a religious faith.
Tracklist Lyrics and Videos
01 Transmaniacon MC (03:20)
With satan's hog no pig at all, and the weather getting dry
We'll head south from altamont in a cold blooded travelled trance
So clear the road my bully boys and let some thunder pass
We're pain, we're steel, a plot of knives,
We're transmaniacon MC
Behind the pantry, behind the tree, the ghouls adopt that child
Whose name resounds forever, whose name resounds on terror
And I'm no fool to call that hog, cause man I remember
Those who did resign their souls
To transmaniacon MC
And surely we did offer up behind that stage at dawn
Beers and barracuda, reds and monocaine
Pure nectar of antipathy behind that stage at dawn
To those who would resign their souls
To transmaniacon MC
Cry the cable, cry the word, unknown terror's here
And won't you try this tasty snack, behind the scenes or but the back
Which was the stage at altamont, my humble boys of listless power:
We're pain, we're steel, a plot of knives
We're transmaniacon MC
02 I'm on the Lamb but I Ain't No Sheep (03:10)
Canadian mounted baby, a police force that works
Red and black, that's their color scheme
get their man, in the end
It's all right, it's all right.
Frontenac chateau baby
I'll cross the frontier at ten
Got a whip in my hand baby
And a girl or a husky at leather's end
It's all right, it's all right
My lovely bel punice, you'd kill and you'd maim
Hornswoop me bungo pony, dogsled on ice
Make a dash for freedom baby, don't skate on polar ice
It's to thick to be sliced by the light
Of long and white polar nights
It's all right, it's all right
My lovely bel punice, you'd kill and you'd maim
04 Stairway to the Stars (03:42)
You can have my autograph
I think I'll sign it love to you
But should I sign it just for you
Stairway to the stars, I think I'll write good health to you
Stairway to the stars, we got better things to do
You can drive my motorcar
It's insured to thirty thou
Kill them all if you wish
Stairway to the stars, I think I'll write good health to you
Stairway to the stars, we got better things to do
You can have my autograph
I think I'll sign it good health to you
Upon the cast, your broken arm
Stairway to the stars, I think I'll write good health to you
Stairway to the stars, I hope you heal up real quick
Stairway to the stars...
Come on, let's get on outa here.
05 Before the Kiss, a Redcap (04:56)
So grab your rose and ringside seat
We're back home at Conry�s Bar
The blond girl with her tattoo
Reds and wine, cokes of course
Oh my Susie, my Susie
Why did we ever start
It's morning now, you'd never know
The gin, the gin
Glows in the dark
Glows in the dark
And underneath the black light
Underneath it all
Four and forty redheads meet
Come to doom, doom the dawn
With threats of gas and rose motif
Their lips apart like swollen rose
Their tongues extend and then retract
A redcap, a redcap
Before the kiss
Before the kiss
Doors like flint and window panes
And endless shadow bar
The owner�s boys have gone to work
We'll stop big deals behind that bar
While outside on the turnpike
They got this new hit tune
Thrills become as cheap as gas
And gas as cheap as thrills
One threat and mundane here at last
Expect to cross once more
Lecherous, invisible
Beware the limping cat
Whose black teeth grip between loose jaws
Still ripe and fully bloomed
A rose and not from anywhere
That you would know or I would care
And the owners act most cheerfully
Back home at Conry�s Bar
When their patron�s thoughts at last
Grow too big for their skulls
Awful things are happening
We've let this drama fold
And now the time has come at last
To crush the motif of the rose
So grab your rose and ringside seat
We're back home at Conry�s Bar
The blond girl with her tattoo
Reds and wine, cokes of course
Oh my Susie, my Susie
Why did we ever start
It's morning now, you'd never know
The gin, the gin
Glows in the dark
Glows in the dark
07 She's as Beautiful as a Foot (02:56)
She's as beautiful as a foot
She's as beautiful as a foot
She heard somebody say, the other day
Didn't believe it when he bit into her face
Didn't believe it when he bit into her face
It tasted just like a fallen arch
She's as beautiful as a foot
She's as beautiful as a foot
She heard somebody say, the other day
Don't put your tongue on the bloody tooth mark place
Don't put your tongue on the bloody tooth mark place
Her face changing now, a guernsey cow
She's as beautiful, oh so beautiful, beautiful as a foot
She heard someone say, the other day
09 Workshop of the Telescopes (04:00)
By Silverfish Imperetrix whose incorrupted eye
Sees through the charms of doctors and their wives
By Salamander Drake and the power that was undine
Rise to claim Saturn, ring and sky
By those who see with their eyes closed
You’ll know me by my black telescope
Your green tree mantle from which these things derive
A lens of quartz and refract scope
That crystal lens whose crystal rope once
Bound me to those doctors and wives
When my vision was oh, so cloudy
And I saw things through two eyes
I am a sailor on the raging depths
And I know a thing or two
Back to the corner, mates, and over the side
Yes, I know a thing or two
By Silverfish Imperetrix whose incorrupted eye
Sees through the charms of doctors and their wives
By Salamander Drake and the power that was undine
Rise to claim Saturn, ring and sky
By those who see with their eyes closed
You’ll know me by my black telescope
Before my great conversion when the ridge was closed
Before my visit to the workshop of telescope
By Silverfish Imperetrix whose incorrupted eye
Sees through the charms of doctors and their wives
By Salamander Drake and the power that was undine
Rise to claim Saturn, ring and sky
By those who see with their eyes closed
You’ll know me by my
Black telescope
10 Redeemed (03:50)
Don't you give up my young, young friends
Here's a story I think will please
How Sir Rastus Bear was in fact redeemed
Redeemed from the cell to which he'd been thrown
By men whose love was more
For the ice and cold
Goblins of surcease, villians of wise
They pranced his brain on through the long, long night
Sir Rastus Bear who'd ever believe
You'd be by a song
Redeemed
Up on the north forty
I'm sure it was Christmas day
When Sir Rastus Bear taught children how to play
Games of life and love
And songs, oh those songs
Oh those deep but true
Hill country songs
Goblins of surcease, villians of wise
They pranced his brain on through the long, long night
Sir Rastus Bear who'd ever believe
You'd be by a song
Redeemed
Redeemed good lord, from the ice and cold
Redeemed from the cell to which I've been thrown
Redeemed by virtue of a country song
And I believe good Lord, it won't be long
won't be long
It won't be
won't be long-long-long-long-long-long-long-long-
long-long-long-long-long-long-long-long-long-long
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Other reviews
By vellutogrigio
"The album is recommended to 70s rock enthusiasts and those who wish to delve into the musical background of many punk, rock, and no wave bands that emerged in the New York area starting in the late 70s."
"She's Beautiful as a Foot (...) surprisingly foreshadowing the traits of Sonic Youth and much of the grunge or related scene (Nirvana, Smashing Pumpkins), expressly indebted to BÖC."
By FlavioMetal
The music was hard, the lyrics cryptic, and the attitude was that of intellectual bikers who, with songs never heard before, could literally drive you crazy.
At that time, it was the flag of the new American Heavy Metal.
