The last of the Bykers' psychedelic rock albums before they went off into dance crossover territory after evolving into the Purple Fluid Exchange.
And one heck of a trip they went out on.
There's a concept in there somewhere, but I'm not quite sure what it is.
Suppression of medical research? Quackery? The environment? Misanthropy? Wilhelm Reich? Mortality?
Yeah, probably; and more, no doubt.
But basically one heck of a trip.
It's not quite a bad trip; but it's certainly very dark.
The transitional pieces are incredibly hallucinatory: Hawkwindish, 'Revolution No. 9' like, movie samples, trailers, throat singing and the most peculiar snippets of dialogue.
Many of the songs are distinctly metal rooted; Tony Horsfall playing his little socks off; twisting metal tropes to fit Mary's most bizarrely mixed vocal.
Psychedelic for sure, but as with all their albums genre boundaries are extremely fluid; there's even some cracking dub squeezed in when least expected.
Perfect.
They were a top band were the Bykers in their prime, but they just couldn't shift the units. Shame.
But you know, I think Van Gogh had similar problems.
Gaye Bykers on Acid - Cancer Planet Mission (1990)
Farceuncle Side
Welcome, Cancer Planet Mission
Face at the Window
Hope & Psyche
Satyr Naked
Catalytic Converter
Advertise
Alive Oh?
Midwoof Side
Mr. Muggeridge
Got is the Kink
Demon Seed
Bleed
Candle
Insomnia
Heavenly Body
Excellent cassette rip @320kbs
Take a trip here
Showing newest posts with label G.B.O.A.. Show older posts
Showing newest posts with label G.B.O.A.. Show older posts
Saturday, 17 April 2010
Friday, 20 November 2009
Driller Thriller
Debut album from my favourite live band of the late nineteen-eighties.
The name comes about due to the first pressings of the vinyl edition not having a central spindle hole, but it did include instructions, and encouragement, to enable the user to add the hole [is adding a hole a paradox?], complete with recommended drill bit size.
It still sounds great this album. And if you're used to the more dancy, electronic PFX-style Gaye Bykers, then this might take you by surprise, as this is a far more down to earth, raw and dirty affair, with the band playing flat-out, full-tilt boogie.
Every track races to the end: flange set on max, a buzzing rhythm section and Mary Mary growling along in an often Foetus-like fashion.
Highlights are 'Motorvate', 'All Hung Up', two tracks that include great refrains - Mary could do a good chorus - 'Zen Express' with its Harrison-like riff, and 'After Suck There's Blow': literal existentialism.
And boy, just dig those helicopter effects during 'World War 7 Blues'.
Cosmic!
Gaye Bykers on Acid - Drill Your Own Hole (1987)
Motorvate
Call Me a Liar
All Hung Up
Zen Express
World War 7 Blues
Git Down (Shake Your Thang)
After Suck There's Blow
So Far Out
Drive In Salvation
T.V. Cabbage
Decent cassette rip @320kbs
Occasional level fluctuation; soon rights itself.
Get your ready-made here
The name comes about due to the first pressings of the vinyl edition not having a central spindle hole, but it did include instructions, and encouragement, to enable the user to add the hole [is adding a hole a paradox?], complete with recommended drill bit size.
It still sounds great this album. And if you're used to the more dancy, electronic PFX-style Gaye Bykers, then this might take you by surprise, as this is a far more down to earth, raw and dirty affair, with the band playing flat-out, full-tilt boogie.
Every track races to the end: flange set on max, a buzzing rhythm section and Mary Mary growling along in an often Foetus-like fashion.
Highlights are 'Motorvate', 'All Hung Up', two tracks that include great refrains - Mary could do a good chorus - 'Zen Express' with its Harrison-like riff, and 'After Suck There's Blow': literal existentialism.
And boy, just dig those helicopter effects during 'World War 7 Blues'.
Cosmic!
Gaye Bykers on Acid - Drill Your Own Hole (1987)
Motorvate
Call Me a Liar
All Hung Up
Zen Express
World War 7 Blues
Git Down (Shake Your Thang)
After Suck There's Blow
So Far Out
Drive In Salvation
T.V. Cabbage
Decent cassette rip @320kbs
Occasional level fluctuation; soon rights itself.
Get your ready-made here
Friday, 9 January 2009
So Rad, Dude
It wasn’t the Gaye Bykers on Acid who helped create the best night I ever had in the Sir George Robey but their doppelgängers and alter egos the Lesbian Dopeheads on Mopeds.
Wonderfully supported by the very surreal anarcho-art terrorists the Mutoid Waste Company (an art collective who not only performed challenging avant-garde music, but also created many an idiosyncratic art piece [Car Henge and all manner of bizarre vehicles, such as the Skull Bus, with its skull-like cabin; and the stumpy coach morphed and shaped into a curious bony fish – all perfectly road-legal with their very own tax discs!]), the first band I saw using arc welders and angle grinders on stage, sending golden showers of viciously spiteful sparks over the first few rows of a cowering, concerned audience; followed by the Bykers in full drag, promoting Stewed to the Gills by playing it in its entirety.
They played their little hearts out.
Never before had I witnessed a bespectacled, dreadlocked man in a frock play a fuzz guitar with such gusto.
Emerging from static and skip, not unlike tuning in, the driving, pounding, full-throttle psychedelia on this album relentlessly assaults the ears, turning the listener on with swirling sounds and provocative lyrics that makes one wanna drop everything and go and drop out in a most delicious fashion.
There’s not a poor tune on this album, and amongst all the samples and superbly edited montages (predicting a direction the band would take in the next few years with their PFX project, as they desperately sought credibility, recognition and sales), some of the best modern out there rock music can be heard.
The real stand out tracks for me include the vitriolic plea aimed at those who abuse the planet, ‘Harmonious Murder’, with the shouted epiphany: “No ozone!”;
Wonderfully supported by the very surreal anarcho-art terrorists the Mutoid Waste Company (an art collective who not only performed challenging avant-garde music, but also created many an idiosyncratic art piece [Car Henge and all manner of bizarre vehicles, such as the Skull Bus, with its skull-like cabin; and the stumpy coach morphed and shaped into a curious bony fish – all perfectly road-legal with their very own tax discs!]), the first band I saw using arc welders and angle grinders on stage, sending golden showers of viciously spiteful sparks over the first few rows of a cowering, concerned audience; followed by the Bykers in full drag, promoting Stewed to the Gills by playing it in its entirety.
They played their little hearts out.
Never before had I witnessed a bespectacled, dreadlocked man in a frock play a fuzz guitar with such gusto.
Emerging from static and skip, not unlike tuning in, the driving, pounding, full-throttle psychedelia on this album relentlessly assaults the ears, turning the listener on with swirling sounds and provocative lyrics that makes one wanna drop everything and go and drop out in a most delicious fashion.
There’s not a poor tune on this album, and amongst all the samples and superbly edited montages (predicting a direction the band would take in the next few years with their PFX project, as they desperately sought credibility, recognition and sales), some of the best modern out there rock music can be heard.
The real stand out tracks for me include the vitriolic plea aimed at those who abuse the planet, ‘Harmonious Murder’, with the shouted epiphany: “No ozone!”;
‘Ill’, an indictment against the then Tory government who were busily flushing the British health service down the toilet;
‘Teeth’, which carries on the battle cry, and advances the attack by concentrating on every speed-freak’s nightmare: dentistry.
(Not only does one have to pluck up courage enough to actually visit the dentist, but then suffer the paranoia of not being able to meet the bill; and the “not such a nice man after all” wants his amalgam back; without the costly luxury of local anaesthesia.)
Then there’s ‘Shoulders’, telling the tale of the devastating night in which the grebo (“Acid Boy”) attending a gig with his girlfriend (“Acid Girl”) loses her; only to find her again seated atop another’s shoulders; totally destroying what could have been “the per-per-perfect night”.
I could go on.
This was definitely G.B.O.A.'s finest work; their last with Virgin (and the production certainly benefits from that association), and without doubt the best album to come out of the whole grebo era.
Gaye Bykers on Acid - Stewed to the Gills (1989)
(Not only does one have to pluck up courage enough to actually visit the dentist, but then suffer the paranoia of not being able to meet the bill; and the “not such a nice man after all” wants his amalgam back; without the costly luxury of local anaesthesia.)
Then there’s ‘Shoulders’, telling the tale of the devastating night in which the grebo (“Acid Boy”) attending a gig with his girlfriend (“Acid Girl”) loses her; only to find her again seated atop another’s shoulders; totally destroying what could have been “the per-per-perfect night”.
I could go on.
This was definitely G.B.O.A.'s finest work; their last with Virgin (and the production certainly benefits from that association), and without doubt the best album to come out of the whole grebo era.
Gaye Bykers on Acid - Stewed to the Gills (1989)
Better Off Dedd
M.A.D.
Hot Thing
Testicle of God (And It Was Good)
Ill
Harmonious Murder
Shoulders
Hair of Dog
Rad Dude
Teeth
Floydrix
Fairway to Heaven
It Is Are You? Concept Reprise
Quality vinyl rip @320kbs
For best effect when burning: remove pauses.
Get Stewed here
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