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Whether it's the little (?... relatively) attention the site gives to his deeds, or my unstoppable "Stendhal Syndrome" towards his works, this is my third review dedicated to Claypool, featuring yet another successful experimental attempt by the last freak genius. I must admit that in these parallel projects I was starting to perceive, in addition to an excessive theatricality in live performances, a mix of self-satisfaction and pathetic, perhaps justified by the not inexhaustible compositional genius of a hyperactive and versatile artist like Les. Unlike the live shows, where they arranged their own songs (from the Claypool brand, meaning Primus and Sausage) and others, like the full performance of "Animals," we find ourselves, a year later (it's 2002), with his Frog Brigade's studio work.
Perhaps the best spark among many immature projects, with Oysterhead leading. Despite obvious flaws, such as a certain discontinuity, "Purple Onion" has the merit of being less of a "brick" than previous albums, especially in the heterogeneity of sound exploration, ranging here from Rush to Pink Floyd, from Zappa-like jazz-rock to electronics. Ah, since I don't want to repeat the usual things, for those who don't know him, Les Claypool is quite unanimously considered the manifesto figure of bass experimentation, as is Wooten of technique.
There is already a space rock reference right from the titles of what are undoubtedly the album's compositional peaks. "Lights in the Sky" is a hallucinatory sabbath that echoes and hypnotizes, in a total loss of oneself towards the cosmos... the references to Pink Floyd are more than evident... (it seems to have come out of "The Piper at the Gates of Dawn!). "Cosmic Highway" instead accentuates that exotic-flavored dreamlike dimension, an intergalactic epic without relics or pauses... especially memorable is the dialogue between the instruments in the middle, which seem to traverse universal boundaries. Among the best bizarre ideas to emerge from Claypool's hat (the others are Eclectic Electric and Mary the Ice Cube).
Among the other noteworthy tracks, "Barrington Hall" initially seems to be a nod to the trash-horror of "Pork Soda," then slowly rises thanks to an excellently fitting medieval framework, an honestly successful track... it surprises me (in songs like this there are those who might criticize), then, those who manage to express negative critiques of the Frontman's vocal talents, who instead strives in every song, even the most mediocre, to imprint the right tonal nuance, never too expressive to seem forced, never for its own sake... Then comes "Whamola", a title referencing the instrument (a kind of double bass played with drumsticks), without mincing words, a big beat à la Prodigy, semi-instrumental clearly conceived as filler, but what it successfully fills are the headphones, with adrenaline rushes worthy of the best cyber-techno sound. While "David Makalaster" is the classic episode with mocking and lighthearted tones, living off the irresistible bard-like storytelling voice combined with a granite guitar, and the result is quite convincing, at least in the first part. The second part of the track (detached from the first) dampens the rhythms, and the slow, heavy cadence, when not boring, feels like a reheated stew... and totally negligible.
The final score is penalized by other fillers, which do not avoid the album's fluctuating nature, and it is, frankly, better to keep silent about them.
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