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- Electric Heavyland (2002) by Acid Mothers Temple & the Melting Paraiso U.F.O.
Electric Heavyland (2002)by Acid Mothers Temple & the Melting Paraiso U.F.O.
3
Atomic Rotary Grinding God/Quicksilver Machine Head / Loved and Confused /
Phantom of Galactic Magnum
The
umpteenth album that's a pun on a classic Hendrix one (just like Kirsty MacColl's
Electric Landlady, The Butthole Surfers' Electriclarryland and
Neil Diamond's Electric Thrash Polkaland), Electric Heavyland
is undoubtedly the most challenging, nonsensical and bamboozlingly insane
of them all. While the communal troupe (or "soul collective" as they call
it) spearheaded by guitar wizard and cosmic guru Makoto Kawabata has never
been known for releasing accessible mainstream rock records, churning out
ultra-psychedelic space-trips at a frantic pace instead, Electric Heavyland
stands as the noisy peak of their demanding and self-indulgent catalogue.
Whereas earlier albums already found them exploring the outer fringes of consciousness
and sonic possibilities by fusing the delirious escapades of far-out space
rock that often sounded as if Hendrix was jamming with Blue Cheer ànd Hawkwind
after he'd been dropping enough acid to sedate an entire army, this little
motherfucker of an album here takes things even further. Much further. Consisting
of barely three songs (the first one two-parted), you could argue that the
album's basically one extended jam and when I say "jam", I do mean "jam".
This isn't about structures, climaxes and one guy waiting for the other one's
solo so that he can start his own moment of glory. No, it sounds as if these
guys were separated from each other in the studio by glass walls, playing
simultaneously but without hearing each other. Makoto churns out one
fuzzed-out space-riff after another, indulges in careening feedback and psychedelic
blues-rock chunks, while bass player Atsushi Tsuyama pummels and pummels and
pummels, drummer Hajime does a crazed Mitch Mitchell impersonation and Hiroshi
Hagashi and Cotton Casino create a dense soundscape on top of that with weird
synth noises, bleeps, hisses and other assorted nonsense. Casino also adds
treated (I presume) vocals to the already densely chaotic whole, making the
end result resemble something that you'd expect if Hawkwind and Hendrix were
jamming with Martians, or fusing Spine of God-era Monster Magnet with
ultra-sick-era Butthole Surfers with Tiny Tim. Occasionally, the barrage
of synth nonsense is a bit more subdued, so that you can actually make out
hints of, uh, rock music, but usually it's as if everything just went
in overdrive, as if the members agreed to improvise collectively and create
the thickets space jam they could come up with. I'm willing to go a far way,
but I do have my limits, unfortunately. Electric Heavyland is probably
a Godsend if you're into the hallucinatory drug variants (and these guys certainly
made their preferences clear) and wanna feel your blood, you know, do weird
stuff and shit, but otherwise it's a fucked-up 52-minute broadcast from outer
space. Which reminds me… it's 10:07 AM over here and I didn't get my daily
vegetables yet! WOMAN! WHERE ARE DEM MUSHROOMS, GODDAMMIT?!
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