Wooden Shjips
Wooden Shjips

THE REVIEW

It might have been the merit of the 40th anniversary of the American Summer Of Love, or some other astral conjunction, but I can calmly assert that 2007, which has just passed, should be counted among the best years in the field of psychedelia. To be remembered as certain vintages of Barolo are remembered. Titan, Mammatus, La Otracina, Giant Brain, Arbouretum, Assemble Head In Sunburst Sound are just some of the names (to mention those less known) that came to the fore last year. No revolution, of course, but always a rather personal approach to the subject, and above all tapping into diversified psychedelic realms (from folk to kraut, from progressive to the West Coast sound).

The latest to appear on the shelves are these Wooden Shjips (no, it's not a typo), offspring of the belly of mother California, inspired in their name by one of the symbolic bands of the area, Jefferson Airplane. Lexical references aside, the Wooden Shjips have very little in common with the typical vintage psychedelia of the Jeffersons. At most something with the new wave of Comets On Fire, but otherwise they are a small and intriguing white fly.

A mea culpa is due from myself, as, after obtaining the aforementioned album in an "unorthodox" manner, and after having given it a few half-hearted listens, I relegated it as second-category stuff, good for completists, but destined to be forgotten. Instead, almost like a betrayal, they have pleasantly mesmerized my player, staying there for a couple of months straight. The secret of this magic potion? To be reductive, I would say: 1/3 Neu, 1/3 Spacemen 3, the remaining third of Doors, and finally a pinch of Can and Stooges. It might seem like a somewhat indigestible mix, but it ultimately proves successful due to the narcoleptic yet highly accessible nature of the tracks and their limited length (around 33 min.).

"We Ask You To Ride", which opens the album, quietly glides between doorsian organ and Neu rhythm, only to suddenly ignite with wild guitar outbursts. "Lucy's Ride" and the final "Shine Like Suns" hypnotize with rhythmic stasis worthy of the best Spacemen 3, with less feedback but with a shamanistic singing soaked in delay. It's just a pity that "Losin' Time" is a blatant plagiarization of "No Fun" by the Stooges, otherwise we would be facing one of the best releases of 2007.

Typical couch listening, with dimmed lights, tired limbs but an alert mind, perfect for getting lost in the intricate and tight passage between wakefulness and sleep, undecided between the arms of Morpheus and those of your girlfriend.