Corpus
Creation A Child

Probably few people will know this obscure formation from Corpus Christi, Texas, which in 1971 released a single and forgotten album initially sold only by mail order; an album that no one, apart from the most faithful adherents of the group, would ever have had the pleasure of listening to, if years later Akarma had not reissued it and distributed it on the European market as well, riding the growing interest generated around such period "gems." In this case, the rarity of the product happily combines with its artistic quality: "Creation A Child" sounds surprisingly good from the first listen, and has the merit of containing pages I would dare to define as "epic", certainly deserving of greater fortune and worthy, now forty years later, of a clear (and necessary) reevaluation. Readers should not be swayed by the undeniable aura of mystery surrounding the group, about which little or nothing is known: we are not talking about a masterpiece, but an unrecognized and interesting chapter in the evolution of the alternative U.S. music scene of those years.

Behind the evocative cover, quite "Californian" in the characters in which the title is written, hides an excellent quartet of uncertain stylistic orientation: specialists speak, with little hesitation, of Psych Rock, modeled after other (and more well-known) Texan bands traditionally associated with the late '60s psychedelic movement (like the 13th Floor Elevators or Billy Gibbons' Moving Sidewalks); in reality, the proposed label is perhaps a bit too tight for the group, whose references should instead be sought among the leading figures of the contemporary San Francisco scene: Mad River comes to mind (especially in the strong predilection for using minor keys), but also the guitar style of the early Barry Melton with the Fish; and these influences are perfectly recognizable, given that we are in the presence of one of the most significant examples of Acid Rock outside California. But don't think of the sound of the Airplane or the Dead: actually, our guys maintain numerous points of contact with the sanguine and torrential guitar playing of electric Texan bluesmen (from Albert Collins to Johnny Winter), as well as a much more rustic and Rock'n'Roll attitude. Additionally, the melodic lines played in unison by the two lead guitars of William Grate and Richard De Leon recall certain atmospheres of the first Wishbone Ash album, released a year earlier (listen to the whimsical pseudo-Jazz of "Marriage" and you will catch many similarities with the English group).

The more experienced ones will have already noted how the many recalled influences include a very broad and diverse stylistic range, to say the least, "kaleidoscopic"; and indeed, coherence and internal homogeneity are certainly not the strong points of the album in question: a factor that heavily (and indeed very much) impacts the four stars I assign to the work, given that the technical skill of the musicians and the imaginative solutions adopted would have deserved an even higher rating. Robust and incisive Rock-Blues alternates (or rather, contrasts) with expansive, lugubrious, nocturnal tracks, dominated by the guitar evolutions of the two soloists and the voice (intense and particularly suited to the genre) of De Leon: it seems, therefore, that two different and contrasting souls coexist within the group.

There are three undisputed masterpieces: "Joy," "Creation A Child," and "Mythical Dream," milestones of an ideal conceptual journey openly inspired by the theme of the relationship between a man and a woman (from marriage to conception and the birth of the first child, to separation): they are majestic minor blues with a slow, sensual, enchanting cadence; austere atmospheres, vaguely "dark," and a general sensation of mystery and elusive melancholy accompany the listening of these three fascinating chapters, unique for sound quality and interpretive tension (notable is the blend created between guitars and Hammond).

The rest of the repertoire ranks a step below in terms of originality of the proposal, but it is nonetheless appreciable for solidity and strict adherence to the canons of Texan Blues (with pleasant harmonic variations that embellish and enliven the twelve-bar standard); the speed and "Jam-oriented" attitude of the soloists stand out, but the rhythmic section also proves to be up to the task, supporting the pace of the tracks with consistency and metronomic precision.

A record with few drops in tone, therefore, which suffers mainly from the lack of overall coherence in the selection of repertoire. But the sounds appreciated in the grooves more than justify its listening. Sincere is my invitation to rediscover a work long (too long) relegated to oblivion.