The Vietnam Veterans : Crowfish for the notary - 1984 Full Album From The Vinyl.
There was a strange alchemy in the records of the Vietnam Veterans, one of the many French bands that accidentally tried to intersect the Sixties while happily strolling through the Eighties. Virtuosity at zero but great aspirations. One eye on old tricksters like Donovan and Roky Erickson, the other aimed at an imaginary and imprecise point of the Sixties. An out-of-tune harmonica and a spectral organ, as if the Seeds had stuffed themselves into some orifice of the world and had dug their way out into a foggy Basque valley. The recording was also rough, so much so that the entire album sounds like a kind of demo tape from Baby Woodrose.
And then there was also the fact that there weren't even any French veterans of the Vietnam War, just as there were no French soldiers during the conflict.
In short, On the Right Track Now was a completely wrong record that only needed to be square to end up on the record shows. But the cover, that was square. And it was a perfect reproduction of the debut album cover of the Ohio Express. Just to add further confusion.
And yet the music of the Vietnam Veterans had its own charm, as there wasn’t even a whiff of Baby Woodrose and On Trial in the very early Eighties.
The band was born right at the dawn of the Eighties, put together by a record shop owner (Mark Enbatta) gathering some "veterans" from small local bands. He gathered so many that in the end, eight of them played on the album, although it wouldn't seem that way. Because the songs of the Vietnam Veterans, as crooked as they are, seem to be a kind of acid and disordered garage singer-songwriter vibe, as if they were a homegrown and awkward version of those Green on Red who had just debuted. Yet, as they roll out, we realize that songs like Don’t Try to Walk on Me, Back from Hell, Out from the Night, Dreams of Today, You’re Gonna Fall, That’s Love have already become familiar to us before we had the time to put the record back in its paper sleeve. From which, I admit, I still find great pleasure in pulling it out today, even if few know what I am about to listen to.
Trank Rev
There was a strange alchemy in the records of the Vietnam Veterans, one of the many French bands that accidentally tried to intersect the Sixties while happily strolling through the Eighties. Virtuosity at zero but great aspirations. One eye on old tricksters like Donovan and Roky Erickson, the other aimed at an imaginary and imprecise point of the Sixties. An out-of-tune harmonica and a spectral organ, as if the Seeds had stuffed themselves into some orifice of the world and had dug their way out into a foggy Basque valley. The recording was also rough, so much so that the entire album sounds like a kind of demo tape from Baby Woodrose.
And then there was also the fact that there weren't even any French veterans of the Vietnam War, just as there were no French soldiers during the conflict.
In short, On the Right Track Now was a completely wrong record that only needed to be square to end up on the record shows. But the cover, that was square. And it was a perfect reproduction of the debut album cover of the Ohio Express. Just to add further confusion.
And yet the music of the Vietnam Veterans had its own charm, as there wasn’t even a whiff of Baby Woodrose and On Trial in the very early Eighties.
The band was born right at the dawn of the Eighties, put together by a record shop owner (Mark Enbatta) gathering some "veterans" from small local bands. He gathered so many that in the end, eight of them played on the album, although it wouldn't seem that way. Because the songs of the Vietnam Veterans, as crooked as they are, seem to be a kind of acid and disordered garage singer-songwriter vibe, as if they were a homegrown and awkward version of those Green on Red who had just debuted. Yet, as they roll out, we realize that songs like Don’t Try to Walk on Me, Back from Hell, Out from the Night, Dreams of Today, You’re Gonna Fall, That’s Love have already become familiar to us before we had the time to put the record back in its paper sleeve. From which, I admit, I still find great pleasure in pulling it out today, even if few know what I am about to listen to.
Trank Rev
Loading comments slowly