Had the honor of being asked to contribute some eye-candy to the Todd Parker and the Witches new release, Martians…even though I have no idea what I’m doing…but at least Parker does. You can read about it in an interview with Parker and get some info about Martianshere, and check out his ‘video album’ for Martianshere.
Not too long ago Fruits de Mer Records put forth the question, Whatever Happened to the Soft Hearted Scientist?Then proceeded to answer it on that sprawling overview of Cardiff’s Soft Hearted Scientists.What happened right after is anybody’s guess, but the important thing is what is happening now. And that would be False Lights. If you do a cursory poke on SHS, you usually get some reference to Floyd. Unfortunately, that’s become sort of a catch-all comparison these days. Most of that can probably be blamed on Floyd’s own sprawl that covers more ground than the casual consumer thinks. Since pigeon-holing SHS is as hard as putting Floyd in a box, it seems like a good place to start. There is a Syd/Floyd vibe…subtle, but there. From a slight nasal twang in some vocals, to a whimsical and skewed lyrical palette that touches on Pegasus, honey bees, and a giant squid, you can see where that comparison comes from. Even though it’s a surface comparison, it’s easy to do since it’s effortless. Which leads to our next point: False Lights is itself effortless. Each song, the flow from one to the next, is so organic and aerodynamic it’s even easier to overlook the craft and construction, let alone the playing. Infinitely hummable and as welcoming as an old comfy chair, False Lights is saturated with a warmth and intimacy that borders on narcotic. Country, folk, psych, 60′s psych/pop, pale prog tendencies…all tumble out. SHS are so good at executing it all it seems without agenda, which to these ears makes a point far beyond the love they obviously have for their alchemy. It drives home a commitment that is beyond the band, one that is aimed at songwriting, at music—all kinds—and to the wealth of influences they absorb into their own comfy chair. The deliciously U.K. aura they exude puts them in the circle of other pop-savants like Gorky’s, Super Furry Animals, XTC and…Syd…. Casually, of course. The synthesis of sounds eclipse genre by rendering categorization useless. The casual listener introduced above won’t see that. They’ll see the buoyant, spritely nature of some of the tunes and the lyrics as something tossed off. Get down in it and revel in a richness often not found in pop—good pop–and it quickly becomes obvious that there is much, much more going on…from being whip-smart and witty, to complex and impeccably crafted. Taking a partial clue from the title, and one in reverse, SHS shine with a light that is as inescapable as the lure of music…without one false note.
Panorama :: Soft Hearted Scientists :: False Lights (2013, The Hip Replacement)
Todd Parker and the Witches step out of the star chamber, and bring greetings from the red planet on Martians. Martians extends Parker’s hand even more from his ‘return’ on Greetings from The Star Chamber, using its launch pad while still building on his legacy with Tadpoles. It’s a darker album, embracing some ominous tones, but also tipping his hat to a love of pop, of all kinds, both aspects made evident on the admitted Cure-ish Zero Sum. A brooding outing, Zero Sum finds kinship with other moody cuts like the closer, Conduit. Wrapping arms around some throbbing, repetitive drone, Conduit isdeeply tied to Parker’s often big closing statements; Sunrise Ocean Bender from Tadpoles’ swan-song release Whirlaway, the indirect reconnection of Disconnect from Star Chamber. At the same time, it’s a definite new tangent, revealing more detail with each pass. Martians is far from a full-scale downer invasion though. Cuidado, Helium Breeze…cuts rooted in psych pop, but with a stronger loyalty to ‘song’ that frees them from being confined to a strict genre add more waves to the transmissions. In between, tracks like the outstanding Malacandra and the exotic Nakhla meld both sides into a pliant and elastic ensemble. As good as Star Chamber is—as a loose homecoming and album on its own—Martians feels more realized, more conceptually whole though there is none…sort of….That in turn makes Martians come across as more personal. Due partly to Parker approaching Martians as a coven of one as much as being a more current and vital application of where he is now, and how he got here…and there. The production is bubbly thick while paying respect to the space inside the spheres as well as in between them. Rich bass pops and bounces, animating Martians’ dynamics, especially grabbing your attention from the get-go on Malacandra. The bobbing and nodding also points the head toa New Order vibe, a band and, more tellingly, a time that had a big impact on Parker, even when buried under the psych fuzz of Tadpoles. Those kind of vapor trails and trace elements bind with where Parker’s head space is now lending Martians a sheen that’s not tied to one time, but still sounds of the now; familiar and fresh without being transient. If Star Chamber was Parker getting ‘back into the spaceship,’Martians is the sound of the cap’n enjoying the flight without the weight of destination’s payload. Go ahead, stretch the legs inside that tin can.
Parker put down his Tang recently, had an oxygen hit, took a breath and lent his insights to Martians and what makes them tick…and finally addresses the nagging “Seger Question” that has plagued the release of Martians.
How do you perceive Martians, in relation to your ‘return’ on Greetings? Continuation, new flight plan, synthesis…?
Greetings from The Star Chamber was me getting the rust off from sitting basically idle, musically, for a decade. My equipment, other than 1 or 2 guitars, was literally in storage since Tadpoles ended in 2000. So, those tunes were culled from about a 20 year period of unfinished demos, half-baked ideas as well as a few brand new things. Additionally, it was also a reunion with drummer Mike Audino and a renewal of a creative relationship that started the Tadpoles out as a band in the first place. So, there was rust there too. But, I felt like we shook it off with Star Chamber and I was ready to jump back into making music again, albeit in a modified way, essentially as a studio-only entity.
After Star Chamber, Mike proposed that we rework a very old Tadpoles cassette album that had gone unreleased called Beautiful Music For Ugly Children from 1989 (Retitled Evil Bliss for the Witches version). That was the first serious thing he and I did together back then and really led me down a life-altering path in that I moved to NYC to form the group with Mike and went on to meet my other collaborators in the Tadpoles, as well as develop a personal life there, being married, having a daughter. So, since he was into giving that album its “due” after all these years, we decided to go back in time and approach that album again as if we were heading into the studio with our 1989 brains and proceeded to cover ourselves almost note for note, sound for sound to the original cassette version, but with superior equipment and sound quality now. While it was a fun trip back to Weird Wonderland, it wasn’t representative of us currently.
So, It became important to find my modern voice so that the Witches project did not become an exercise in nostalgia for days gone by. As it turned out, it became obvious that Mike and I had wrapped up whatever unfinished creative business we had together through producing Star Chamber and Evil Bliss and we both decided it was time to move on once again. He made some wonderfully quirky videos for the Evil Bliss album that I hope more people get to see over time.
Martians is apparently where I’m at presently. All new songs, all written since Star Chamber. No old demos or rehashed tunes. Didn’t really plan it out, but went with my instincts and it developed song by song that ended up being the running order of the album.
They’re both your babies, both great records, but do you feel Martians is a ‘better’ album in the context of being newer material overall? More of statement than Greetings?
Thanks. I do think Martians is a better album and more of a pure statement than Greetings From the Star Chamber, which, while fun to make, is more of a hodgepodge of styles and sounds from a very wide period. Some good stuff on there, though. I think Disconnect from Star Chamber is one of the best songs I’ve ever recorded. Technically, it was a Tadpoles’ demo from the early 90′s that never saw the light of day, so I finally gave it some light in this new version. But, it was of that era. With David Max playing bass on it, Mike on drums, you have essentially the same core of musicians that recorded the Tadpoles first album, 1994′s He Fell Into The Sky. Martians is probably the most personal album I’ve done. It has little to do with Martians of the little green men variety. But, I love the sci-fi imagery, and possibilities for metaphor in the theme.
Martians has a definite darker tone, aura—Zero Sum, Conduit—but also feels more personal this time around. Was that just a natural tact that emerged on its own, or a conscious choice?
Yes, darker at times. Though there are also a couple of pretty poppy tunes in Cuidado and Helium Breeze. Cuidado even has a real chorus! The personal, probably introspective side to this came naturally, I think, from working totally on my own this time. I haven’t done that over a whole album since way back when I started making songs with my 4-track in my college apartment in the 80′s. Solitude can sometimes bring that 3rd eye introspection. And without the dark, there is no light. So, I acknowledge that too. I also no longer write specifically with a band in mind that needs to play the tunes like I used to do in Tadpoles. So, there are more of the keyboards and instrumentation choices that I used to use back in the 80′s that I stopped using so much with the Tadpoles guitar-based assault.
There’s a definite flow to the record, especially leading up to the close, Conduit. How important is sequencing the record, how much decides itself? Do you think taking the time to sequence a record deeply plays into the overall tone, or message, of the record? It seems pushed to the side frequently these days.
The art of the album is unfortunately becoming a lost art in the digital download era. But, it’s certainly not lost for everyone, and not lost for me. I still appreciate a well-sequenced album that takes you somewhere, rather than a front-loaded selection of individual tracks. Not that every album has to be a concept album per se, but without getting too hippy-dippy here, there is an energy level throughout a well-considered album song sequence that ebbs and flows and directs the listener’s mood and perceptions. I think that as artist, you want to have control over that. Part of the new social network stuff that perplexes me is the idea that artists are having fans vote on song sequences, album titles, whether a song is good or not, whether it needs more or less bass, etc, all in the name of “engagement.” Even Devo, whom I respect immensely, did that for their last one. See, I’d rather hear a Devo album the way Devo wanted it, not the way a random group of fans wanted it. I think they ended up coming to their senses and released their own version as the standard. Anyway, I’m happy to see the resurgence in the interest in vinyl releases as the idea of song sequence was very important on vinyl due to the limitations and the idea that you have essentially two opening tracks, for Side A and Side B. Even though vinyl releases have not been in the limited Bakery (Parker’s label) budget, I’ve always approached all the Tadpoles and Witches stuff that way in terms of sequencing. There is a first half of each album and a second half.
Is there a message with the emphasis on Mars?
Probably a theme I’ve worked on throughout my whole career … kinda out there. On one’s own. Alienation. That sounds kind of dark or negative, right? But, there’s the other side, too. Traveling to inner and outer destinations unknown. Exploration. While waving your Martian freak flag high. I can embrace both. Tadpoles albums, He Fell Into The Sky and Far Out come to mind with those themes. Whirlaway, too. And, I suppose I was locked away for a decade in some far off Star Chamber before sending the Greetings that I was still alive in 2010 when I got back into the spaceship.
After being in the game for more than a few plays, how much impact does what’s going on in the music universe play into where you’re at? Or does that tenure allow you to disconnect from that kind of pressure, or perceived pressure?
At this point, it’s all the bonus round for me. With my work with the Tadpoles in the 90′s, I really achieved what I had set out to do with my music to various degrees. Made a bunch of albums that I’m really proud of, that people still discover and enjoy. I played with a lot of excellent musicians, collaborators and partners, many of whom are still dear friends. I played a bunch of shows all over New York City, did some touring on the east and west coasts, and we presented ourselves as we intended to the best of our abilities and resources. So, really, that was the career. Jumping back into this a few years ago has also been very gratifying. With the technology available now, with the internet, with the social networks, I can really just focus on creating what I want to create and leave it at that. I don’t need anything else from the music universe. And, I’m happy to drop whatever I’ve got cooking into the current cosmic musical stew and I’m satisfied if it has the opportunity to reach some people who might get something from it. And, it’s still fun to meet some of these new people who like what I’ve been serving up.
Was it a conscious choice to release Martians on Bob Seger’s birthday? How do you feel about accusations of coattail riding?
Ha, If I had known that you were going to premiere Martians right on Seger’s birthday, I would have flown over to Richmond and set up a Chooglin’ party right there at the station so I could lead the midnight staff in an accapella rendition of Katmandu. Hey, that’s not a bad idea anyway. Maybe I should do a Kickstarter for that…
Martians is available via BandCamp and the usual suspects. Green or otherwise.
Todd Parker and the Witches ready more greetings…this time from Mars…Martians is set to enter our atmosphere this coming June, via Bakery Records.
Tune in this Monday, 1-3 a.m., for an exclusive preview of cuts from this new release from founder of perennial fave psych rockers The Tadpoles, great Americans and sonic namesake of this humble broadcast.
One-man psych pop shoppe Beaulieu Porch (Simon Berry) is satisfying the sweet tooth again with an autobiographical ‘real life psych pop odyssey’ that carries TheBeatles infused finery of Beaulieu Porchforward, and carves a couple new facets into Lucy’s diamonds. All the detail and watery lushness of the self-titled are here in abundance; high lilting vocalsreading the signposts to ‘be your guide to the other side,’ effortless hooks spilling out and intimate pop mastery virtually bubbling up at every turn. In every way a worthy successor to the self-titled debut, We Are Beautiful revels in the fertile soil that gave rise to indelible pop poppies of the ’60s, furthering that tradition while extending Berry’s grasp—and love—of it, as well as his own output. Golda 03 kicks of the odyssey in the fine form expected, but also signals more twists in the licorice. Golda 03 has a stop-start pace that doesn’t disrupt the flow, but adds a new light to Beaulieu Porch’s shimmering vibe. The exceptional The View From Gainsborough moves so freely and naturally that it’s airborne out of the gate, giving an aerial view of the ‘starlit ocean.’ Here though, the guitar cuts a bit deeper and highlights a slightly thicker sound throughout We Are Beautiful. By no means a radical shift, or even a jettisoning of what makes Porch go down so smoothly, but a slight coalescing that makes the chewing even more satisfying. It’s a subtle addition that dovetails right in, made clearer on the lysergic swirl and pop maelstrom of Anno Domini, the carousel chug of Daylight Faces or the fiery ride-out of the shape-shiftingcloser If. Contrasted with cuts like thewonderfully hazy waking-edge of The Narcissists or the gentle ricochet-dancing of planets and atoms in Of Particles, the small-scale escalation of dynamicsmakes the whole ridea touch moreimmediate without any abruptness. In the case of Beaulieu Porch and Berry’s role as psych-pop ferryman floating you downstream, the gently lit sparklers and flare-ups make the sounds, colors and the traditional pop aspects of his vision even more kaleidoscopic without being blinding, or blind-sideing you.
I have to admit, on an initial spin I wouldn’t have pegged His Name Is Codeine as Scottish. Their full-length debut, The Only Truth Is Music, has the requisite fuzz and reverb, but there is a rootsy, rustic spine that is as hard as oak that veers into a hazy, thick and often amorphous Americana fog. The Elgin-based 6-piece readily acknowledge outfits like Spiritualized and The Black Angels, as well as reaching further back to VU, Gram Parsons, Neil Young…well, hit me with that piece of oak, Young isn’t American…It doesn’t take long to realize that earlier line of thinking is what got us into trouble to begin with…but I digress. And so do His Name Is Codeine, without taking their hands off the wheel and running rampant over more than just their hometown. They cut a big swath and deliver the heft, but they also appreciate the lure, and allure, of a big sky or at least the need to pull over every now and then, take a breath, and look up. Especially when you’re feeling down. For as much as they love the rolling wall of fuzzy sound, His Name Is Codeine keep things on the human scale, approaching their ‘tales of darkness’ as storytellers. That’s made perfectly clear through the haze on the VU-ish Measure Of Your Misery and many points in betweenon their ‘sleazy bedsit Bible of Scottish hope.’ Needless to say, where there’s a Bible, there’s sin. You can take a bite with the first single Before The Apple Fell, mixing swagger, sexy and menace in equal parts. Slow-boil lament Magdalena mixes in blood, pavement, drugs and sailors for an added kick of the gothic that gnarls that oak even more. It’s not all a crawl in any way either, with the focus on songs over effect and a pulsing heart (check Shoot to Kill) rather than an over-revved engine. It’s a tasty mix, with some thick ingredients, but His Name Is Codeine never let it get muddy. Viscous and stout for sure, and not afraid to embrace a pop sensibility without selling out the (wide) screenwriter’s story. Or forsaking where you came from…no matter where that is, even if it caused you some troubles. His Name Is Codeine is here to tell you a story about that…
The Only Truth Is Music is out May 30th via Dead Book Records.
We recently got introduced to Jim Guittard, ‘a 4th Generation Musician and 2nd Generation Writer,’ and his off-center (certainly not to the right) brand of folk/psych rock. He’s got a wealth of material, the latest being Forward, released last year. There’s a definite 60s slant, from the bare bones, rootsy based singer-songwriting to the lyrical content, updated for the modern times of course, made obvious on cuts like War is Fun or Ballad of Homeland Security. Vocally its skewed like his lo-fi concoctions, but laced with his commentary and subject matter, it quickly leaves behind any humorous vibe that might have lured you in from the get go.
It’s No Fun But I’m Ok :: Jim Guittard :: Forward (2012, Jim Guittard)
Dealing primarily with government and social issues, it’s eccentric, but serious. Forward pokes it’s head into other grooves as well on some instrumental tracks that marry his psych vibe with more modern tangents, like the great Raga. Occupy Monotony and Smoothie veer into the strange lands more than some others; Smoothie especially conjures up a definite atmosphere that’s one part unsettling and one part enticing…a dose for each ear. Mr. Groove isanother instrumental oddity that, like the others, isn’t at odds with the more singer-songwriter cuts. Mr. Groove is a definite kindred spirit to a great American, Stan Ridgway. Like Ridgway, there’s a country element that runs through, as bent as it might get. From what I gather, Guittard is a one-many citizen army of sorts, but he doesn’t operate in a total vacuum. He’s collaborated with Henry McGuinn, son of Roger McGuinn (The Byrds) in the Ragas as well as writing with Dominica Campanella of The Quarter After on his album California Daze, that Guittard describes as paying ’tribute to the birth of the Neo-Psychedelic scene that emerged beginning in 2000 in Silverlake, California with groups such as the Beachwood Sparks, the Brian Jonestown Massacre, The Quarter After, smallstone, the Warlocks, the Tyde, and the Belle Isle.’
You can find Guittard’s music at his Jamendo outpost and at jimguittard.com. The wonderful Homemade Lofi Psych Blog has an interview with Guittard with more info on where he’s coming from, as well as been.
"This show is 110% … one of the most consistently awesome programs we have come across."
The Sunrise Ocean Bender sets sail every Monday morning, 1 – 3 a.m. on WRIR lp 97.3 FM, to find something for your ears, and something for your head … From psych to prog to pop and whatever tributary we can find on the way … and right back around again. There might be a map, but the destination is up for grabs. If it all goes right, we may just get lost. Meet me at the muster station … it might be a long week.
Not too long ago Fruits de Mer Records put forth the question, 
Todd Parker and the Witches
One-man psych pop shoppe 
I have to admit, on an initial spin I wouldn’t have pegged 
We recently got introduced to 
