Thursday, April 12, 2007
Grady Stings The Blues.....The Bad Trips S/T LP
What's in a name? That was the subject of an odd conversation I once had a few yrs back when I was in The Hague at a banquet to celebrate the signing of the Maastricht Treaty. I'd misprounced the name of this Dutch fella & he was gettin all pissy about it. 'Is all right', he sniffed, 'is only my name after all'. Then this English chap w/crisp Kentish diction chimed in 'But what's in a name really? I mean, it's just a name, isn't it? Certainly no harm done I should think'. He then proceeded to bite into a custard tart, the dust & crumbs of phyllo settling on his left cheek & shoulder like small pieces of a jigsaw puzzle. He didn't seem to notice & was off on his way, hobnobbin with & interruptin other guest's & conversations. A bad trip? I reckon. Personally I thought it was funny, but I'd bet at some point-especially considerin the way he was poppin them canapes-that someone had to draw his attention to the glutinous mess he was makin of himself. That's when his trip took a turn into bad. The next time I seen him at some function he was sportin this thing over his jacket he called "A vicar's bib". What a twat! But cheerio to that geezer. Toss off sez I.
Then there was the time I drove all's the way up from Portsmouth, Oh in a snow storm to see Pere Ubu in Columbus. Normally this would've been about a 2 hr affair, but w/the snow comin down so hard, it took me twice as long to get there. And then arrive at the club & find out the show'd been cancelled. Talk about your bad trips! I never did care much for the band after that. I mean, I made it & I was drivin a Pinto. Ah, whatever, it was around the time between 'Art Of Walking' & 'Song For The Bailing Man' so how good would it have been anyway? At least I got to eat a bag of White Castles on the way home. So I guess it weren't so bad after all.
But I didn't come down here to peck out a bunch of miserable musings from my memory lane compendium. I want to focus on this band The Bad Trips, which is the latest goings for one Grady Runyan whose proven himself a supreme pit master of barbequed Psychedelic brisket, havin smoked many an earhole in the legendary Monoshock as well as slaughterin all manner of burdensome beasts w/the most excellent petal-glorious sludge of Liquorball (listen to their live lp & then tell me it don't practically piledrive 'Get Stoned 'Ezy' into the mat. You can eat my______). Now he's runnin 'n gunnin w/The Bad Trips & while you might be able to take the man outta the marinade, you can't take the marinade outta the man. All the fuzzophonics & zoned riffage, the flambéd drums & rhythm... it's all there & honed to perfection (as usual). Only difference this time is The Bad Trips ain't layin waste w/sonic torches burnin off the fat of Hawkwind, Pink Fairies or Afflicted Man. No, they's crafted their 2007 blitzkreig to somethin that is extended, but also sharp & edgy. They seemed to've discreetly picked up some different stylings & tunings (just a little) than the smash/mouth action of Monoshock or Liquorball & at 1st I couldn't put my finger on it. But after a few plays it seemed to be that this lp was a perfect distillation between Paul Butterfield Blues Band's' 'East-West' jam & side 2 of 'From Pussies To Death In 10,000 Years Of Freak Out' by Flower Travellin Band. Grady 'n Jeff Grimes is like Mike Bloomfield 'n Hideki Ishima leadin messrs. Bob Anderson & Gordon Roberts (also known as 'the rest of the story') through statically charged parallelograms of improvised, psycho-gnarlic char.With that knowledge in my bonnet, I just keep listenin to it longer & longer & harder & harder & louder & louder. Rock, hint's of raga, molten leads, magestic rumbles, it's all there, recorded (gloriously) live to two-track & pressed on 180 gram vinyl for 500 willin pups (& pupettes) to have seared into their neck portals. Frankly, I ain't heard an lp anything like it this year & don't expect to. The Bad Trips might effacingly use the name in the pejorative, but the peyote is lethal & the nutmeg's toxic.If I was the snakes & coyotes out there in the desert surroundin their compund, I'd take'em seriously & keep my distance. The Bad Trips bite back & they got the pelts 'n rattlers to prove it. Go here; http://www.thebadtrips.com/ & see what I mean.