Music Emporium
Music Emporium

We have to come to terms with it. Certain works have always faced adverse destinies. They inexplicably march towards oblivion from their very first appearance, and only Time, a gentleman like no other, can save them from that black hole, that one-way road. The story of Music Emporium, originally The Cage, a Los Angeles quartet composed of the virtuoso keyboardist and singer Bill "Casey" Cosby, drummer Dora Wahl, bassist and vocalist Carolyn Lee, and guitarist Dave Padwin (all veterans and seasoned musicians) is one of the many unfortunate stories with which the world of Rock and Roll is filled to the brim. Therefore, rather than assuming tones with too elegiac accents, we should first conduct a little discographic reconnaissance and discover, if possible, the reasons for the general indifference with which this album was received, considered too sophisticated for the tastes of the audience of the time.

California, 1969. It is the year of the legendary Woodstock concert. It is the year in which some of the most significant releases in the entire History of Rock come to light. Just to name a few, "The Volunteers" (Jefferson Airplane), "In The Court of the Crimson King" (King Crimson), "Trout Mask Replica" (Captain Beefheart), "Tommy" (The Who), "Led Zeppelin I" (Led Zeppelin), "Uncle Meat" (Frank Zappa), "Marble Index" (Nico), "Aoxomoxoa" (Grateful Dead). The psychedelic and acid-rock winds still rage across the entire West Coast thanks to contributions from bands like the Doors, who release their fourth album "The Soft Parade," Iron Butterfly with "Ball," the double release ("Four Sail" and "Out There") from Love, and the ninth studio album from the Byrds, "Ballad of Easy Rider." With the recently concluded experiences of Electric Prunes ("Mass in F minor" was a year earlier) and Strawberry Alarm Clock still in the air. And so, in such a vast panorama, in such a dazzling firmament that can blind even the sharpest eye, that one can lose sight of the long trail of certain comets.

Characterized by the imposing presence of a metaphysical Farfisa, the album is a successful blend of elements borrowed from free-jazz, classical music, avant-garde, and rock. It is an album that can be placed in inspiration among the works of Arzachel, the British Velvett Fogg, the Southwest FOB as well as the aforementioned Strawberry Alarm Clock. "Nam Myo Renge Kyo" sounds somewhere between the Byrds and the Jefferson Airplane of "Surrealistic Pillow." It is a piece that combines the organ's obsessive theme with a robust guitar groove. From such a beginning, you expect a modest psychedelic album. But then "Velvet Sunsets" starts, and the epiphany occurs. The journey begins. Thus, you arrive near timeless megaliths. Find yourself in a new dimension of the Spirit. A sparse series of chords on which the Farfisa stretches, intertwining the voices of Cosby and Lee. It is precisely in these slower moments that the album reaches immense heights. "Catatonic Variations," folk-pop that approaches the sensitivity of a Tim Buckley; Gentle Thursday, a delicate lullaby in which Carolyn Lee's voice seems to invoke the name of Ulysses; "Winds have changed," a melancholic country-rock ballad. The rhythm section of "Cage Listen Listen" sounds almost like the proto-metal of bands like H.P. Lovecraft and Josefus. "Sun never shine" openly echoes Hendrixian and English beat experiences. The farewell is entrusted to an organ that sounds fit for a religious service. "Day of Wrath," with its hypnotic pace, drives the darkness of the Apocalypse from the devoted's path.

Music Emporium is a true masterpiece of Rock music. No debut was as beautiful yet so inglorious as to pass quietly. Our loss. Because this remained the only work of the band, which dissolved a year later due to Cosby's departure. Perhaps with a more substantial production, we would have already rediscovered them many years ago. Perhaps. But the logic of redemption is a logic that serves little in the economy of certain works, which can only be reproached for being born in the wrong place, at the wrong time.

Music Emporium "Self-titled" (Sundazed Music, 1969)