Wooden Shjips
West

Phycho-delicatessen.

In the blink of an eye, I'm already there with my little finger on the play button for another listen. This new one from Wooden Shjips is easy and edible just right and it even leaves a bit of stardust on the shoulders of my jacket.

It could be that the label change, here they are on Thrill Jockey, might have contributed to better focusing their psycho-vintage taste than before, directing them more than in the previous three chapters towards an almost pop idea of the concept of psychedelia. So be it.

Less Velvet-like than the Black Angels and less garage than the Baby Woodrose, W.S. remain faithful to their creed, throwing a stone into the murky pond of psychedelic rock with a handful of tracks loaded with fuzz guitar, aimed more at the hypnotic sense of the whole than at the sonic impact. It has never been in their strings, and so it is in this 2011. To give you an idea, this West will make happy those who intend to get lost in circular and deliberately lo-fi sounds over which hovers the aura of the Morrison Hotel. Not to mention the little cosmic trip to the German side that our guys have always had in their DNA. All sprinkled with the shamanic voice of Ripley Johnson and the Kraut-flavored delay that permeates the recording sessions. Without being top of the line, they still climb up my preferences in this "duemulaeundici" alongside "Mastersleep" by the Hills, also worth keeping an eye on.

I have the presumption to say this is their most successful work; undoubtedly, it is a step forward in defining their sound. Without shifting their musical geography a comma here, everything sounds more familiar and accommodating. You can be popoular even like this.  The less sunny but more acid themes and sounds of that psychedelic beat that settled in the S.Francisco bay after crossing the Sunset Strip in L.A. are sincerely and energetically retraced.

They openly cite their idols (the guitar on "Home" is borrowed from Jorma Kaukonen), they embrace without flinching the musical style that was the manifesto of Western America in the '60s. Already said and re-said.  Few accelerations, in the already mentioned "Lazy Bones", in the rhythmic "Looking Out" or in the dirty riff somewhat like MC5 of the opener "Black Smoke Rise". Then, as promised, a little organ in certain cases (in the long "Flight", for example) brings to mind the use that the Black Mountain made of it on "In The Future".

Just these acidic tones and the immaterial chirping in the background are enough to saturate the audio channels of my stereo and to get me buzzed as needed. The concise duration of the work (37 minutes) caters to those not accustomed to the slow and expansive rhythms of ours and in general to those who haven't been drinking for a long time in the now (and finally I add) increasingly less static waters of neo-psych. The general structure is narcotic as always, but can soon turn into a boogie ("Lazy Bones") if you just let yourself sway a little. I forgot, I first discovered this Frisco combo thanks to their vol.2, a highly recommended collection of various singles and E.P.

It might be the presence of that freak organ or the Golden Gate on the album cover, it might be the increasingly Jerry Garcia-like appearance of band-leader Ripley Johnson or the inevitable nod to the Californian sixtees scene that these seven tracks have; it might be this or something else that makes me sigh <<West is the best...>>....Mmh, but this has also already been said, right Jim?               

The opinion of Commander Bossolazzi:

Only a warning for those who don't really love Fuzz and buzz sounds, keep away. 

For you, the new season will certainly bring something else. Good for you. 4 medlars.