Sleestak -The Fall Of Altrusia

While walking along the beach in the early hours of the morning I discovered something curious.  I noticed a small, dark object a good distance away from me being buffeted by the waves hitting the shoreline.  It didn’t appear to be moving much at all however, so I didn’t quicken my pace to save it from the tide.  As I came closer the object resolved itself into what at first appeared to be a simple box, then a box made up of material that looked like darkly stained wood, and eventually a finely wrought wooden box covered with beautiful ornate carvings across its exterior. 

I knelt down beside the box in order to get a closer look at the carvings.  They were extraordinary!  There were several highly detailed moth-like creatures pictured alone or interacting with other humanoid yet reptilian creatures. Situated all around these moth-like and reptilian beings were glyphs, uniform in height, which must have been writing of some sort.  Never in my life had I seen anything like this firsthand.  The only comparison I could draw in my mind was to Egyptian hieroglyphics.  Would someone have dumped this artifact here on the beach?

Combing the surrounding area revealed only one set of footprints arriving or leaving, mine.  Also there were no other people anywhere near my position on the beach.  I quickly made the decision to take the box back to my apartment, where I would safeguard it until I could notify a museum or historical society about my discovery.  With my mind made up I proceeded to lift the surprisingly heavy box from the sand and began the long walk home.

Matters quickly grew more complicated after I arrived back at my apartment.  I set the box on my kitchen countertop, went into my bedroom and turned on my computer.  Once it was booted up I searched the internet for locations and phone numbers of major museums located near my place, turning up three.  Unfortunately my calls to all three museums were met by automated messaging services, each of which stubbornly refused to let me leave a message.  If I wanted to talk to an actual person, I would have to wait a few hours to allow the museums to open.

Waiting was not my strong suit, so I went back to the kitchen to further examine the box.  I ran my hand over one of the moth-like creatures carved into the top of the box.  Shockingly, the slight pressure I applied caused the carving to sink into the lid!  A muted click followed, and the lid rose ever so slightly off of the box.  Throwing caution to the wind I tried to lift the lid further, but it would not budge.  It did however tilt up on hinges hidden inside the box/lid frame.  Not knowing what to expect I crouched down behind the countertop before I opened the lid completely.  Several seconds passed and nothing jumped out, nothing bit my hand, and nothing appeared to be released into the air above the box.   Feeling safe I stood back up and let my gaze fall on the box contents.

The very first thing I noticed was a sheet of paper.  The glyphs on the outside of the box also appeared on the paper, but incredibly there were English translations!  The first English translation read, “If you are reading this, I am most likely dead.  My name is Enik and this is the story of the Altrusians.”

Can I have a moment of your time waveriders?  Thanks.  I’d like to focus your collective attention towards an incredibly interesting band.  Their name is Sleestak, and they’re here to take you on an exciting musical journey you won’t soon forget.  First things first however, let’s get what’s obvious to some out of the way.  Based on the group’s name and their album title some of you astute waveriders will have undoubtedly made the connection that the members of this band are fans of the show Land of the Lost.  If you are not a fan of that particular show have no fear.  Knowledge of that fictional universe is not required to enjoy this musical offering.  Now let’s get to the good stuff.

Sleestak is a four piece band out of Milaukee, Wisconsin.  Trying to pigeonhole them into one genre is impossible.  Are there doom metal passages present?  Yes.  Is it psychedelic at times?  Definitely.  Do stoner rock elements make themselves felt throughout the album?  Absolutely.  Would portions of this album fit well on any 1970’s era progressive rock album?  Indubitably!  And that’s part of the beauty of this band.  They are not going to fit into your pre-rendered mold.  They are Sleestak, plain and simple.  Take it or leave it (here’s a hint…take it!).

The Fall Of Altrusia is the band’s second full length album, and it packs a wallop.  It’s a fifty minute long concept album divided into seven chapters.  One of the first things I noticed about this album is the fluid and seamless song progression, and I do mean seamless.  While listening for the first time I was literally shocked to look down at my player’s LCD readout to find I was listening to track 3.  I was so enchanted with the ebbs and flows of the music that when I attempted to determine when the first two tracks might have ended I came up blank.  That my fellow music lovers, is a rare and special gift.

Another talent this band clearly exhibits is the ability to keep the listener’s attention.  The songs easily transition from righteous heavy riffing to quieter, more introspective psychedelic/progressive passages that keep the listener glued to their seat waiting to hear what comes next.  The vocals are of special note here.  During the loud, doom-laden, riff-heavy portions the vocals are sandpaper-harsh.  The growls and yells help accentuate the band’s aggression.  On the other hand when the band settles down into their calm and pensive gear the vocals completely change.  Gone are the yells, replaced with clean singing…but there is a catch.  To maintain the other-worldly vibe the band has going, the vocals are put through some kind of filter to make them sound as if they were recorded underwater.  It’s weird, but it works very well.

Waveriders, The Fall Of Altrusia by Sleestak is an album that you need to hear.  It will take you away from your day to day grind for as long as you need it to, and it will do so with a fearsome smile all over its green-skinned, scaly face.  Remember, it’s not just an album.  It’s a journey.  Buckle up!

--Penfold

http://sleestakmusic.com/store.html

Ripple News - Baby Woodrose Back Catalog Re-issued

We already professed our undying love for the fuzzed out, bubbling psychedelic pop created by Baby Woodrose, so we were thrilled to learn that lots of previously hard to find stuff is being made available again from Bad Afro Records.

Baby Woodrose - Money For Soul LP (AFROLP018)

On Money For Soul Baby Woodrose created a unique sound that took them to the 60's and back leaving the music being influenced by many shades of rock'n'roll and psych but played with heartfelt punk attitude. Baby Woodrose received quite a lot of attention outside Denmark with their self-released debut album "Blows Your Mind" from 2001. In reality a one-man operation by Lorenzo Woodrose who wrote the songs, played all the instruments, produced the record and put it out on his own Pan Records. Baby Woodrose later became a real band and Money For Soul reflected that. The album was mixed and mastered by Jürgen Hendlmeier and contained their biggest hit so far;” Everything's Gonna Be Alright”. Sleeve made by Malleus. Originally released in 2003 in 2000 copies on black vinyl. New print limited to 500 copies on red vinyl. 

Baby Woodrose – Chasing Rainbows LP (AFROLP035)

Chasing Rainbows was the sound of a band with more musical guts than on previous albums. Clearly inspired by the Baby Woodrose side-project Dragontears, Baby Woodrose  expanded their sound and produced an album that is very different from earlier efforts. Not only because of the use of instruments like cello, lap-steel, flute and tablas. But also because Chasing Rainbows was both their most poppy and commercial release AND their most experimental and druggy album so far. Originally released in 2007 in 1500 copies on black vinyl. New press limited to 500 copies on red vinyl.

Baby Woodrose – Blows Your Mind CD (AFROCD020)

The Baby Woodrose debut album is temporarily out of print on CD but a new new print is on its way!

If you're a fan of psych pop, you won't go wrong checking any of these out.

A Ripple Field Report - Grand Atlantic and the Coast is Clear Tour - Jose's Underground Lounge 3/6/10

When the going gets tough, the tough get going.

An old cliche, but true, and one that applies to rock 'n roll as well as any place else.  Any band can pull off a decent show when everything is meticulously managed, produced, and every moment is scripted by the "how-to-put-on-a-gig-and-be-a-rock-star" book.  But what if it ain't going by the book?  What if the book's been barfed on, covered in lighter fluid, set aflame and tossed out the fricking window?  If you really want to see what a band is made of, what character the guys bring to the stage, the true power of their craft, then check them out when things are stacked against them.  And when I mean things against them . . . I mean everything, every damn thing you can think of.  Under those circumstance, how many bands could stand up to the challenges?  How many could bust through a year's worth of unexpected crap all dumped on them at one time and still take the stage?  And of those few who dared, how many would thrive?

It wasn't that long ago that I declared Grand Atlantic's masterful album. How We Survive, one of my Top Ten favorites of 2009.  So it should come as no surprise that when I learned the cats were coming all the way from their homes in Brisbane to start a US tour right in my own backyard, I did a little Ripple dance of glee. How We Survive brought everything to the table that I've been salivating about in music these days; walls of jangling, psychedelic guitars; hypnotic, bass-heavy swirling grooves; and melodies so thick they can stand up by themselves in the corner of the room.  Or more realistically, get up and dance the night away.  I described it as the perfect combination of The Church's sweeping psych-grandeur, with the Stone Roses trance-inducing beat, and enough garage testosterone that you could still get your fists around it.  For those of you who haven't heard it, check out their myspace but be careful.  If the bands I mentioned appeal to you, you may just fall in love.

After meeting and hanging out with the guys the night before at the Hotel Utah (missed the show -- long story), Mrs. Racer and myself shot down the California Coast to catch them playing in Monterey.  Jose's Underground Lounge is a cool little space off Cannery Row, tucked away underneath a Mexican Restaurant.  A far cry from the Viper Room on Sunset, where Grand Atlantic were to be playing the next night, judging by the fliers tacked on the ceiling, Jose's still puts on quite a few shows.  Trouble is, I'll bet my last tortilla they've never worked with a band from overseas before.  Due to travel restrictions, Grand Atlantic wasn't traveling with a drum set, amps or extra guitars.  No problem at a bigger venue, but at Jose's, we got a disaster on our hands of epic proportions.  The second the Mrs and I walked in, the band's manager, Joe, whispered in my ear.  "Well, mate, looks like we got us a snare stand."  Not knowing what he was talking about, I looked at the stage where drummer Mat Von Diehm had duct-taped his snare drum to the top of a beer keg.  That was it for drums, stands and cymbals, by the way.  One snare drum duct taped to a beer keg.  And a crappy American beer at that.  Meanwhile, Jose's only had one guitar amp, although both Morgan Hann and singer Phil Usher play electric.  And bassist Sean Bower had already declared the bass amp to be something recently found on the freeway after falling off a semi.

Quite an inauspicious start.

Loaded up on Pacifico Beer and fresh tacos, Grand Atlantic's improvisation began.  The arrival of a usable drum set calmed Mat, but the absence of anything that vaguely resembled a high hat still caused a problem.  Asking a drummer to drum without a high hat is like asking a Formula One driver to race without a steering wheel.  You can get the damn thing started but you got absolutely no way of controlling where it goes.  Undaunted, Mat shrugged, gave a pantomime gesture of disgust to no one in particular, and went out for a smoke.  Phil meanwhile, unable to plug in an electric, borrowed the acoustic guitar from the night's opener, Deborah Crooks, and plugged it right into Jose's PA.  Sean simply ignored his bass amp and the guys sat down and tried to figure out what in the world they were gonna play with this improvised line up.

Well let me tell you, if you didn't know that the night wasn't going as intended, you'd never have known it from the revelation that poured over the small, but appreciative throng that night.  From the first opening chords of Grand Atlantic's chart-climbing single, "She's a Dreamer," the audience was hooked.  Only seconds passed before the women were dancing in freeform, trance-induced circles.  Even the most stoic Budweiser drinker hanging in the back, lost himself in the man-nod of approval.  Grand Atlantic had arrived.

With so much stacked against them, no one would've faulted the lads if they collectively pulled an Axel Rose, got all prima dona, and stormed off the stage.  But that's not the way Grand Atlantic play the game.  Phil strummed that borrowed acoustic with fury.  Morgan lost himself in undulating 12-string guitar flourishes.  Sean anchored the whole affair with his bass, sounding firm and solid on any amp.  And Mat?  Well, Mat's left foot pumped away furiously on a phantom high hat pedal and I swear to God, I couldn't tell the difference.  With his glorious hair flopping with each pump of his head (remember, I'm a bald man . . .  no jealously here . . .  really), Mat kept time, added textures and beats in perfect synchronicity.  By the time "She's a Dreamer," ended, every one in Jose's Underground Lounge knew that something special was going on.

With such a ragtag instrumental base, Grand Atlantic improvised the set list also, reaching way deep into their back catalog to find songs they could still pull off in this semi-acoustic/high hat-less performance.  "Smoke and Mirrors" off the This is Grand Atlantic album kept the pace going seamlessly, while "Freeway" and "Hit N Run," sounded every bit as urgent as they do on the How We Survive album.  "Chaos Theory," and "Burning Brighter," were new songs to me, and they thrived as the band's confidence in their ability to steer this ship grew.  With each passing second, you could see that confidence rising.  From the breathless-performance sweat dripping from Phil's face down onto his borrowed guitar (for which he apologized) to Sean's duck-and-weave dance of stepping to the microphone for backing vocals without hitting his head on a horribly positioned dangling paper star.  By show's end, he stopped trying to avoid that star altogether, and it almost became part of the show to watch it bouncing off Sean's forehead whenever he sang backing vocals.

"Used to Be the Sensitive Type," with it's shimmering sound and layered harmony vocals was simply spot on perfect.  Fully enraptured, the audience flowed and swayed with each turn of the melody, rising and falling with each crescendo and dip.  Mouths silently opened and sang in harmony to a song they were only hearing for the first time.  Like wise, "Just Another Ghost town," and closer, "These Are the Times," lost nothing in their makeshift format.  Once or twice, manager Joe (who of course has heard the band play 16-xillion times) would lean over and whisper in my ear, "If they only had two electric guitars, this part would soar, mate."  But you know what, it did soar, just the way it was.  And as someone who'd never seen the guys play before, I can honestly say no electric guitar or high hat were missing from my experience.

Big Star's "September Girls," and Procol Harem's "Whiter Shade of Pale" closed the encore, sandwiched around a rousing version of "Tripwires" for which Mat flipped me off for shouting out in request.  Apparently,  that song is impossible for Mat to play without a high hat.  Who knew?  Didn't stop me from screaming for it, and didn't stop me from loving it.

After the show, when I went up to Morgan to congratulate him, he smiled slyly and said, "Yeah, man.  We were really grasping at straws with that one."  Perhaps so.  But most bands can only dream of grasping so tightly.   After witnessing that gig, I can only imagine what Grand Atlantic sound like when the stage is fully set, two guitars plugged in, a working bass amp . . . and a high hat.  Seems the only way for me to find out will be to fly down to Austin and check out the guys as they decimate SXSW.  They've already been declared by the Austin press as one of the top 10 bands to catch.   So that's what I'm gonna do.  Come next Friday, I'm heading down Texas way and I'll be there in the audience, watching the crowd get carried away into the dreamlike '60's-infused psychedelic pop splendor that is Grand Atlantic.

And Mat, you better be ready.  I'll be screaming for "Tripwires," then also.

--Racer