The Morticians - Now That She's Gone A rock gem, a garage relic from the catacombs if there ever was one… not even that old. An amazing album I’ve wanted to write about for a long time, but what should I write?!…
Let’s turn to the Reverend.
The names on the record are all made up.
Lenin England, the drummer, is Simon Redfern.
Wednesday Childs, the lanky guy who juggles guitar, Farfisa, and vocals, is his brother John (we’ll see him later in Cherokee Mist along with his brother and then, finally with his real name, in Gorilla, NdLYS).
Ben Sofa_Coffin, on bass, is actually Ben Jackson.
The collective name, once they abandoned the Giant Sunhorse moniker with which they toured the English free festivals with their largely Cream-influenced repertoire, pays homage to the actress Carolyn Jones, better known as Morticia. The original idea was to debut with an EP dedicated to her, which was later scrapped due to financial issues. However, the Sussex band did not give up and, after meeting with Dave Goodman, recorded a whole album in just three days (July 27, 28, and 29) also dedicated to the lady of the Addams Family, released in a cautious initial limited edition of 500 copies and later reprinted until it became one of the most important cult garage punk records in Europe.
Despite the parody cover and the involvement of a joker like Mike Spenser from the Cannibals that might suggest a joke band, the debut album of the Morticians turns out to be one of the best English records derived from the neo-sixties of the entire eighties.
Abrasive garage punk on the "punk side" of the album where, alongside the original electric crackle of Now She’s Gone, explode six swirling covers of lesser American beat-punk classics like Action Woman, Sweet Young Thing, Blackout of Grately, E.S.P., I Need You There, and Don’t Need Your Lovin’. All filthy with fuzz and sometimes, as in the case of the stunning rendition by the Gonn, supported by derailleur and phantasmagorical organ lines.
The second side is dedicated to the more psychedelic side of the trio.
Spiral Bat, Carolyn (borrowed from Why Don’t You Smile Now by the Allnight Workers), and Section 44 (the missing portion to Country Joe and The Fish’s Section 43) are visionary digressions of LYSergic hard-blues in the classic hyper-amplified style of Cream/Blue Cheer/Jimi Hendrix.
Nestled among these walls of watts is a nice version of Song of a Baker by the Small Faces, duly hardened.
Freak Out is an astounding showcase of psychedelic punk art.
The missing link between the garage trash of the Cannibals, the acid convulsions of Bevis Frond, and the malevolent rasp of the early Morlocks.
Turn on, Tune in, Freak out.
