45 REVELATIONS

45 REVELATIONS

Ken Barnes

Welcome to Garageland Around The World. Cults across the globe are worshipping at the shrine of the fuzztone god, and the seeds of psychedelia have resprouted in bands greedily plundering the trashy treasure troves of the ’60s.

I grew up on the Standells and the Syndicate Of Sound, so I’m glad to see the sound revived. But I have a few reservations. Many neogaragists are afflicted by myopia, fixedly looking backwards and failing to listen to any significant development that may have cropped up since the Shadows Of Knight broke up. Others too slavishly idolize the Stooges or the Cramps, and, however brilliant the originals, there is nothing duller than a bad Stooges or (especially) Cramps imitation. Finally, and this is less a reservation than a way to keep it all in perspective, the worldwide garage “explosion” is happening on a miniscule scale, perhaps 1/25 the size of the audience for some New York electrofunk rap artist you never heard of.

Still, the garage revival is a dayglo splash on the great wall of sound, and new patterns are forming. My favorite scene of the moment is Sweden, where reside previously-cited bands like the Pyromaniacs, Shoutless, and the Wayward Souls. The last-named group shares a label (Tracks On Wax) with three other stellar acts.

The Watermelon Men and the Playmates both wield lightning flashes of melody and thunderous instrumental assaults, whipping up quite a storm in the process (try the WM’s “Is It Love” or the Playmates’ “Days After Tomorrow”). And Cornflake Zoo’s “I See You” could’ve leaked out of any 1966 suburban block in Ohio or Illinois or Southern California—authentic guitar grunge.

(Tracks On Wax, Box 2175, 531 02, Lidkoping, Sweden.) Meanwhile, the Nomads snarl their way through one of the myriad hopelessly obscure ’60s garage rock covers these bands love to resuscitate (this one an acid-tinged slash-and-burner called “Driving Sideways [On A One Way Street]” by HMS Bounty) in about 90 seconds, showing why they’re Sweden’s most notorious revivalists.

Liverpool’s Vibes, on the ultrasnotty “I Hear Noises,” win the nastiest punk assault of the month award. Playn Jayn’s “Something Died” falls on the Byrdsy, melodic folk-rock side of the garage rock axis, but it’s far from punchless, unlike much of the poppy stuff. (Try your local importer for these last three records.) The Dentists know the folk-rock drill too, and extract a ringing, exuberant pre-psychedelic Beatlish bash quaintly titled “Strawberries Are Growing In My Garden (And It’s Wintertime).” (Spruck Records, c/o James, 6 The Willows, Rainham, Kent, England.) Can peace, love, and beads be far behind?

Not if the Dukes Of Stratosphear have anything to say about it. The Yardbirds fuzz, Chinese gong, and modal riffs that open “My Love Explodes” serve notice that this quartet (XTC in thin but colorful disguise) is pulling out all the psychedelic stops—a promise fulfilled not only on the rest of this single but everywhere on their extraordinary 25 O’Clock EP, which manages the difficult trick of constituting an exciting recreation and an amusing sendup simultaneously.

The German-based Beatitudes offer a delightful pop-punk period piece on “So Much,” which I believe is a cover of a Little Phil & The Nightshadows tune (c/o Mike Korbik, Birkbuschstr. 47, 1000 Berlin 41, West Germany). Australia’s Shindiggers go for that Merseybeat trashabilly sound purveyed by the Milkshakes, with the original “Baby Let So” standing out from a four-song EP as exceptional raunch (Preston Records, 52 James St., Preston, Victoria 3072, Australia). And the weirdest genre exploration of the batch is from Australians Pam & The Fashions, who turn a strangely deadpan surfin’ celebration of “Summertime All Round The World” into a complaint about radioactive sewage in the ocean and other fun-’n’-frolic deterrents (Hot Records, 314-316 Victoria St., Darlinghurst, Sydney 2010, Australia).

Pam & the Pashions’ punky thrash plants it halfway in the modern era, and makes a good bridge between the ’60s and the ’80s. So do the Divinyls, who turn in a neat version of the Twilights’ “9:50” (the Twilights being a fab Australian ’60s combo led by Terry Britten of “What’s Love Got To Do With It” fame) on the flip of their superb 1984 single “Good Die Young.” (I know I’m over a year late, but I just found this single and the next one, and find the Divinyls, emotion-packed vocals and melodic rock textures so endlessly fascinating that I had to review it anyway.)

The sounds of Australian independent labels are getting better all the time. John Kennedy has a big voice you’d expect to hear swathed in strings, but a simple guitar-bass-drums seting works admirably on the country-folkflavored “Two People” and “Miracle (In Marrickville).” The Happy Hate Me Nots, hands-down winners of the dumb name of the month award, provide a dose of that Jam-style Pop-rock I never tire of. The Melting Skyscrapers set up an entrancing riff at the start of “Strange Device,” kick it into overdrive in the second half, and the spell holds for most of its 5:43 duration until length and a few too many Iggyisms return it to the realm of the ordinary. (These three from Waterfront Records, PO Box A537, South Sydney 2000, Australia.) And Fools Apart’s “On The Beach” boasts an immediately gratifying guitar burst that resolves into a folk-rocking Cure hybrid (Greasy Pop Records, PO Box 136, Rundle St., Adelaide 5000, Australia).

The U.S. is not without its sterling independents. The hideousness of Woofing Cookies’ name (hold that dumb name award!) is surpassed only by the brightness of their guitar-pop attack on “Such A Mistake” (Chelsea Roof Productions, 208 W. 23rd St., Suite 1016, New York, NY 10011). And Nashville-based veterans the White Animals contribute a clean rock tune worthy of the late great Plimsouls on “This Girl Of Mine.” (Dread Beat Records, P.O. Box 121356, Nashville, TN 37212.) Time for one more British independent, the Red’s “I Can Fly,” a warm rush of guitars highlighting a song that reminds me of Let’s Active and similar Southern complex-popsters. (Lost Moment Records, 4 Lindsey Close, Longdoon Park, Hemel Hempstead, England.)

This month’s independent crop, garageoriented or otherwise, is so impressive that it’s run me out of room for more mainstream material. Next month I’ll feature hits of the day— Prince, Madonna, and others.