Guys, let's dive back into our exploration to salvage one of the many forgotten gems from the depths of history, the late '60s American psychedelic scene, Lothar and the Hand People. Formed in Denver, Colorado in 1965 and active in New York from 1967 to 1969, this rather original group had the merit of being among the first to use the Moog modular synth and the theremin. The lineup consisted of Rusty Ford (bass), Kim King (guitar, Moog modular, Ampex tape deck), Paul Conly (keyboards, Moog modular), Tom Flye (drums and percussion), and John Emelin (vocals and theremin). They produced two very interesting, albeit bizarre, LPs that over the years have garnered a small cult following. Their first work, "Presenting..." from 1968, is the best.
Who is Lothar? The theremin!
The name "Lothar and the Hand People" arises from the need to associate the instrument with the musical destiny of the group. For those who don't know, the theremin is the forerunner of modern electronic instruments, invented in 1919 by the Soviet physicist Lev Termen, named after its inventor. It essentially consists of two oscillators working on the same frequency; it operates solely through the movement of the hands near the two antennas, one vertical, the other horizontal, producing a tonically fluctuating whistle. Worth noting are the two most emblematic uses of it: first, in 1966 by the Beach Boys in their timeless masterpiece "Good Vibrations," and later in 1969 by Jimmy Page during live performances of the effect-laden interlude in "Whole Lotta Love."
Lothar and the Hand People, pioneers in the use of electronics, was a group far from mediocre. Their instrumental arsenal transcended the primordial hippie roots to serve a more accessible pop-psych for the audience, more in intention than in fact. The lesson from Captain Beefheart and Zappa is felt here, a formal deconstruction aimed at regenerating into a renewed musical form, due to the measured and "intellectual" use of electronics, without encroachment, but proportional to the economy of sounds with an overdose of skillful arrangements for a very balanced formal outcome. Here we assert that in England until '68, the Beatles were an indispensable stylistic reference for many bands (perhaps due to their global success) or rather, that during that period, music was also played in the style of the illustrious beetles, and this style was spread all over, so it perhaps couldn't be attributed solely to the "leading group." However, when we rely on the light of history, references inevitably fall upon the most "quoted" and thus the Beatles, but also Bonzo Dog Band and Idle Race softly, offer inspiration. A showcase of carefree free-pop eclecticism, in a soft-psych key that transcends classical dream-like psychedelia, despite the evident British pop contamination on the basic structure, which constitutes the most peculiar virtue of their works, later taken up by others. A special note goes to the unknown guitarist Kim King, who indelibly stamps each piece with originality, a true artist! The album opens with "Machines," the Mort Shuman cover, masterfully reinterpreted in 1966 by Manfred Mann with Jack Bruce on bass, which in Lothar and the Hand People's Beefheart-style masterpiece version, reveals itself as a true and proper sharp and ramshackle sound/noise mechanism, skillfully moved by the guitar cadences filtered through the Moog.
With "This Is It," the theremin makes its appearance (which will then introduce all the tracks), Emelin's flower-pop vocals flow naturally like King's guitar, bringing us back to the "goodtime" derivatives reminiscent of the Lovin' Spoonful and Beach Boys. "This May Be Goodbye," with its acid-trip lyrics ("the stars aren't afraid to look as fireflies do"), explores a different direction on various levels of intellectualism. The satire, recalling the Mothers of Invention, shifts in the harmonic/melodic setting towards "Lucy in the Sky with Diamonds." "That's Another Story," a little song à la Ringo Starr, confirms the wide-ranging influence produced by the Liverpool boys. The cerebral nature of "Kids Are Little People," a counter-culture hippie satire on clichés, is quite inspired by Frank Zappa's harsh reflections but is expressed in a more playful way. Here the theremin is at its most focused, with repetitions of the riff and solos, highlighting the group as an admirably sensitive unit embodying technological innovation. "Ha (Ho)" is another track that strengthens their connection with the Beatles and related acts. But "Sex and Violence" is the album's original masterpiece, an obsessive mantra of the repeated title, containing all the formal and textual iconoclastic ingredients that undoubtedly lead back to Zappa's and Captain Beefheart's freak lineage, not only that, but also to Kim Fowley's "Outrageous," foreshadowing the primitive tribalism punk of Mark Smith's Fall in 1978. "Bye Bye Love" is an Everly Brothers cover, with its love-end mannered and mocking song, the track is a road that eventually leads to Gram Parsons. "Milkweed Love" goes heavy with the use of the Moog. "You Won't Be Lovely" combines some garage seeds with the songwriter's strength, not too far from Arthur Lee's early works. Then suddenly, "Woody Woodpecker" pops up from Walter Lantz's famous cartoon theme, speeding along and lightening the overall atmosphere. "It Comes On Anyhow" is a piece of "concrete music" with the repeated phrase "It Doesn't Matter," which would later be stolen and titled by the Chemical Brothers in 1997. The record closes with the delicate and fragile synth of "Paul, in Love," which preludes to their second and final album "Space Hymn" from 1969.
In conclusion, it can be asserted that Lothar and the Hand People were an expression of a culture irresistibly driven towards a future that proved to be obscure, without burning the bridges of their acquisitions, but the dreams were about to be exhausted, leading to a self-destructive social-individualist nihilism. Musically, they still hold up today to a careful listen, not without surprise.
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