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Rating: Where were we with Les Claypool?!?... Ah, now I remember: my "phone" review of his latest project at the time, the Duo De Twang.
I promise that this time I will be serious, very serious. But immediately another question arises: is it really necessary to show seriousness when talking about a character as crazy and bizarre as only Les has been able to be in his now three-decade-long career as a musician? Let's not get lost in convoluted reasoning and talk about this album of his, released back in 1996. The first released under his name with the addition of Holy Mackerel. (Here already, we need to open a parenthesis about the quirky name chosen by the Californian bassist: pure and simple genius).
Les does almost everything himself on the album: he plays bass, drums, guitar, various strings and bows, sings, produces. Recorded at Rancho Relaxo, a studio-home of his own; so it's easy to imagine, knowing the character, how he records whatever he wants, however he wants, without any constraints from record labels. In fact, it's his own label, Prawn Song, that introduces this work to the record market twenty years ago in August (and it feels like yesterday, darn it!!!).
The cover, as always, is psychedelically crazy, with that little devil holding in hand some unidentified concoction of dubious origin; surrounded by a series of stars indubitably indicating that the alcohol level has already surpassed the attention threshold.
It starts off grandly with the acoustic country-blues of "Running the Gauntlet": a minute and a half of unabashed fooling around, with Les's voice detached, distant, which suddenly turns into whistling, marking the time of this brief song with a roots-farm flavor.
In the second track "Holy Mackerel," you can sense the presence of a bunch of friends: Jay Lane on drums and Mark "Mirv" Haggard on the six-string: personally, one of the peaks not only of the album but of all of Mr. Claypool's production. A genuine psychedelic-funk crossover, driven by the swaggering advance of the impetuous bass of His Majesty Les; with an acidic and explosive guitar solo almost at the end of the piece: a masterpiece. Exactly...
With "Hendershot," you enter a dance hall directly from the main door: a colorful polka with a Mexican flavor that brings joy. Try listening to it with your eyes closed and your mind free: you'll be projected into a Texan fair along the border with warm Mexico.
The dark and pressing "Delicate Tendrils," and again Les delights in playing all the instruments, features Henry Rollins on vocals: his singing turns out to be a spoken word that is at times mantric, equally supported by the liquefied sound of the "usual" and solid ever-present bass.
The instrumental "The Awakening" confirms for the millionth time how Les's technical prowess is on a stratospheric level and, to me, unsurpassable: a funk ride that closely reminds me of Primus from Pork Soda.
Before concluding, it is necessary to give proper homage to another of the most successful tracks on the album: "Me and Chuck," a sort of impromptu instrumental jam with Charlie Hunter's guitar adding further bizarre madness: the good Frank Zappa would have liked it, without a doubt.
Passed with flying colors, but mine is a biased judgment. A unique work that will have no sequel (to me, it's a shame).
Ad Maiora.
Tracklist and Lyrics
08 Holy Mackerel (03:53)
Pick a name, pick a place.
Chances are I've had the means to be there.
Pick a date, pick a time,
I've got it from a friend of mine.
The ability to socialize.
Holy Mackerel
Once when I was young,
I troubled over imperfection in my knees.
When you cultivate a pompadour,
it's best to keep the top up for the breeze.
Cuts like hell, ya know.
Sporty was a poetry boy
and liked to puff his pipe into the night.
But since he sold him hits of ectasy,
Johnn Law, he took a decade of his life.
That's a hunk o' life.
Holy Mackerel.
12 Rancor (01:22)
Rancor, rancor
Wake her up and thank her
Where's Billy Bob? GEne, weigh the anchor
Rancor, rancor
You really oughtn't spank her
Oh olalaberry
Rancor, rancor
Flarin' up my canker
Isabella Dzermann grew up to be a banker
Rancor, rancor
The parasite wanker
Does olalaberry
Does olalaberry
She thinks she's so complimentary
But it takes all kinda to bake a cake
13 Cohibas Esplenditos (03:13)
Mr. Hamster and Hot Potato Man
turns the city on its ear.
Mr. Hamster takes Hot Potato Man
by the arm,
Bombay Sapphire in his hand
and Cohibas... Esplenditos.
Saw Mr. Potato Man the other day
down at the Wasteland.
He's a happy boy, full of vim and vigor
since the day he left his wife.
Him and the Hamster, at the nudie shows,
they like the finer things in life,
like Cohibas... Esplenditos.
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