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Rating: Peter Stampfel and Steve Weber, two rascals from North Louisiana in May 1967 decided to make some crazy stuff and what comes out is this "Indian War Whoop" from 1967 because when there's madness, there's everything.
The story is supposed to be about a certain Jimmy, who knows, basically a music record that takes American folk and wrecks it with off-key notes, detuned instruments, deformed (and deforming) voices (with the help of Antonia, Barbara, and Wendy) and loads and loads of acid.
After a brief intro, it starts off strong with the frantic title track, in a forced orgasmic crescendo of Native American cries, a scraped violin (present throughout the album), and a drum beat at 3000 beats per second but never at the right time (more or less like in Metal, ha ha!), "Sweet Apple Cider", a Mojave desert atmosphere, truly chilling, piano bar "sweet apple cider turn gold in brown my cousin and Idan let into town... now there's no more cider down in the well, they got there just before me" recalls the cactus shadows that opened up the elder brother "Safe as Milk" by Beefheart, and it all ends with a nice *glug-glug*.
"Soldier's Joy" is a rowdy saloon dance with a duel between drums and violin "... championary for a while! Don't let the baby die."; "Cocaine Blues" starts with a "so large, so huge!" and immediately plunges into a casual and staggered walk that would remain an amorphous mass of hitting instruments if it weren't for the chorus, in the style of "Trout Mask Replica".
"Sky Divers" after the usual boring intro, calms down and becomes an extremely nostalgic journey to the land where it was born with a violin in the distance writhing, an abysmal sadness that does not betray the omnipresent madness of the work.
Another brief filler piece and here we get to the masterpiece "Radar Blues" anticipates the Neutral Milk Hotel of "In the Aeroplane Over the Sea" [the song I mean (but also the MBV of "Loveless")] and hurls us high up into the sky at sunset, cradled by winds darting at thousands of kilometers per hour, towards the light, an endless journey to paradise, and a piece of heart is torn apart here, the journey ends, and we recover quite well with "The I.W.W. Song" which is a less joyous and slower "Soldier's Joy" and (ha ha!) more normal.
To myself: >the voices drive you crazy, you can't understand a darn thing.<
"Football Blues" picks up the lively displays of uncontrollable manic euphoria from "Soldier's Joy" and as it happens with it, you feel like hitting the dance floor (naked would be better).
"Bay Rum Blues" is a laid-back piece like "Sweet Apple Cider", playful and... "what's that thing you do with your thumb and middle finger?"-able?
"Morning Glory" and the music ceases, waking up from the trip in the early morning with tender kisses and the usual grating little chorus.
If you thought there was nothing more insane than the Residents, well, in fact, there isn't, but this album is a good competitor. Irreverent. Overwhelming.
I could have avoided even this "review," but the album overwhelmed me.
But how? Isn't there "Acid Folk" among the DeGeneri? Shame!
Anyway, despite everything, a masterpiece.
Peter Stampfel: electric fiddle; vocals
Steve Weber: guitar; vocals
Lee Crabtree: piano; organ
Sam Shepard: drums
Antonia, Barbara & Wendy: vocals
Tracklist and Videos
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