Third Ear Band
Alchemy

In the great and unrepeatable psychedelic season that exploded in the second half of the sixties, the English Third Ear Band constituted a unicum, both for the peculiar instrumentation used (mainly viola, violin, cello, oboe, and tabla) and for the attempt to compose pieces that harnessed within them the territorial peculiarities and the ancient energies of countries very distant from each other, both in time and space. Instrumental pieces where free improvisation reigned almost unchallenged and could be fully appreciated only if received through the "third ear," a symbol of our deepest and most ancestral essence that makes (or should make) all of us fraternal companions on this journey we call life.

"Alchemy," the debut album of the band, is a real "around the world in 50 minutes" (by comparison, Jules Verne with his 80 days was a beginner!) in which they try to get to the most obscure secrets of the Earth by tracing a fil rouge that connects and interpenetrates the cultural baggage and millenary practices of the "visited" peoples.

It starts with "Mosaic" where, on a tabla drone reminiscent of a pounding African war dance, a pressing gypsy-flavored violin and the fluttering of a lively oboe alternate and intertwine.

With "Ghetto Raga" the band moves to the Middle East, creating a piece full of sunny psychedelia in which the tremor of the viola and violin sound carpet constantly heats the air we breathe. An ideal climax for an oboe, this time hypnotic, intent on painting us the mirage of caravans of camels and Bedouins, of endless dunes and sand, and sinuous odalisques dancing for us.

The atmosphere becomes more nuanced and twilight in the Celtic "Druid One" and "Stone Circle": in the former, we seem to glimpse in the nocturnal mist the apparition of two Druids confabulating with each other, while in the latter, the medieval and serene mood catapults us to the rich wedding banquet of a refined noblewoman with a respectable gentleman.

The mysticism of "Egyptian Book of the Dead" takes us to the unknown territories of a deceased awaiting the Egyptian god Anubis, who, to discover whether in life he was a just or wicked man, will weigh his heart. The beat of this heart, marked by a feverish tabla score, the restlessness of the departed, rendered with a spasmodic crescendo of string instruments, make it a dark and vibrant piece that ends with the violin "mimicking" the sound of the door of the "Hall of Two Truths" swinging open.

"Area Three" is perhaps the most indefinable and abstract piece: the various instruments compose a coherent and homogeneous script in which the disorienting frolicking of a jaw harp recalls the typical alienation of some monologues of the characters populating Brechtian theater.

Next, with "Dragon Lines," we partake in the colorful and festive bacchanal of the Chinese New Year. Here, with the instruments played in the highest registers, we are literally overwhelmed by confetti, fireworks, Red Lanterns, and the zigzagging progress of the "Dragon Dance."

The album closes with the brief and refreshing pastoral "Lark Rise": violin, recorder, and tambourine guide the melody in what seems to be a little quadrille with a group of friends gathered by a stream for a picnic of yesteryear.

An album for "rare birds" for "rare birds," "Alchemy," in my opinion, is slightly inferior to the magnum opus of the band ("Third Ear Band" also known as "Elements"), but it is nonetheless rich in interesting cues and possesses the extraordinary ability to evoke states of mind and bring images that span in all directions.