The Barracudas
Mean Time

Perfect embodiment of the beautiful losers honored by Bob Seger in one of his old albums, the Barracudas, a sort of rock multinational based in London, were one of the cornerstones of the neo-sixties movement of the early Eighties, but unlike many of their contemporaries (Fleshtones, Fuzztones, Rain Parade ...) they never received recognition appropriate to their talent, only relative satisfaction from a niche following, in peripheral countries like France, Spain, and, partially, Italy. However, for the very few who knew and appreciated them, the Barracudas invariably constitute a true cult object.

A cult founded largely on this beautiful, second album, intermediate between the debut “Drop Out With The Barracudas” and the concluding “Endeavour To Persevere”.

That they were not destined for worldwide success, the Barracudas, it can be sensed from the first steps, when they madly attempt to resurrect the surf genre in England (in England!) between the late Seventies and early Eighties, producing, however, notable tracks such as “Summer Fun”, “Surfers Are Back”, “I Can't Pretend” and the splendid “(I Wish It Could Be) 1965 Again”, all included in their debut album, which unfortunately, despite a good qualitative level, boasts absolutely laughable commercial results.

Immersed in the gray atmospheres of the new wave and post-punk and determined not to passively adapt, the Barracudas hold firm and do not lower their flag; on the contrary, they set out on the path of a natural evolution that leads them to broaden their musical spectrum - contaminating the surf freshness with massive doses of psychedelia, beat, garage, and pop - and which leads them to be, like new Flaming Groovies, among the most credible epigones of the sixties revival and more generally of the Eighties guitar sound. Moreover, it’s not really a coincidence that this stylistic maturation comes with a lineup change that brings in guitarist Chris Wilson, already a member of the aforementioned Flaming Groovies and who a few years earlier co-wrote with Cyril Jordan one of the movement’s greatest anthems, that “Shake Some Action” which everyone should know or at least listen to once in their life.

The resulting album is, indeed, “Mean Time”, in my humble opinion one of the absolute peaks of the neo-sixties, and simply one of the most beautiful albums of the Eighties.

One of those rare cases where each of the tracks on the list (twelve in total, in the original vinyl version) would deserve a comment on its own: starting with the exciting rendition of “Ain't No Miracle Worker”, which converts the original acidity into an insistent beat and absolutely does not make the Brogues regrettable; moving through “Grammar Of Misery”, “Shades Of Today” and “Ballad Of A Liar”, pure pop distillation that would intoxicate even the most orthodox and die-hard genre fanatics; then delving into “Bad News”, “Be My Friend Again”, “You've Come A Long Way” and “When I'm Gone”, nothing but beautiful folk songs set in a slightly psychedelic atmosphere, like a garage band would play them; finally closing with the rocking “Dead Skin”, “Eleventh Hour” and the tribal “Hear Me Calling”.

There's everything in “Mean Time”, confirming the group's multifaceted spirit and the zenith they reached, but this certainly does not detract from the homogeneity and solidity of the result.

Something that, unfortunately, instead occurs in the farewell album “Endeavour To Persevere” (title of a beauty that moves), a younger and very similar sibling to “Mean Time”, which however lacks precise focus and a grain of extra inspiration, although not lacking episodes of absolute value (“Dealing With Today”, “Way We’ve Changed”, “She Knows” and “Pieces Broken” above all): in short, another very worthy album, which does not stand out properly only because it is condemned to an eternal comparison with its unattainable, inimitable predecessor.

As you’ve already understood, dear DeBaserians who have ventured this far, neither “Mean Time” nor much less “Endeavour To Persevere” are blessed by commercial success, and there isn’t even a Bertoncelli to champion their cause (the only ones to support them at the time, and still today when the opportunity presents itself, were Federico Guglielmi and Eddy Cilia in the pages of the then glorious “Mucchio Selvaggio” and to them goes my thanks, for introducing me to an extraordinary group).

And so, here ends the story of the Barracudas and the parallel adventures of the members of the group begin. Absolutely noteworthy are those of the Fortunate Sons of guitarist Robin Wills and the project “I Knew Buffalo Bill” in which singer Jeremy Gluck dedicates himself, alongside Nikki Sudden and Jeffrey Lee Pierce.

Speaking of beautiful losers...

P.S. My joy - and it is ultimately the hope that drove me to write this review - would be even more heartfelt if someone, reading these lines (many, but still too few for such a group) were persuaded to purchase a Barracudas record; maybe precisely “Mean Time”, the ideal album to realize what has been missed in the last thirty years.