Monday, June 18, 2007
The Knows Nose.....Graham Lambkin's 'Salmon Run' CD
Even before I'd laid eye or ear on this new solo release of Graham Lambkin's I'd done heard all sort've tales surroundin it's existence. My moles deep inside the Hobbit Hole of Underground Intelligence informed me this cd was initially commissioned by agents Tweedles Dum & Dee from a certain Canuck label but then rejected as not fitting in w/said curator's aesthetic. (Long silence. Narrator: 'at this moment Mr. Woodbe has been overcome by great gales of laughter. Coughing & sputtering, it seems he cannot catch his breath & his head has begun to turn a deep shade of red. Hold on, it's blazing into a brilliant orange.....now a piercing white light, and....My God, it's full of stars!'). Whew! Lord have mercy...... pardon the interruption, I'll try & bear this knowledge in mind next time I come across one of their releases STARRING Dylan Nyoukis or..... (Narrator; 'careful Mr. Woodbe, easy does it')......Richard Youngs!! ( Narrator; the torrents of you-know-what are beyond restraint at this time. Woodbe is coughing up all forms of drool, bile, bits of lung, it's horrendous! But for all his histrionic grandstanding I'll have to admit-he does has a point).
WOW....okay, so's next I'm told that this was to be a concept album about Bigfoot what got scrapped. I gotta hand it to Graham here; of all the barleywines out there, that one might be the most recognized but it sure ain't the best. On the other hand, basin an entire cd around the delights of Old Knucklehead would probably give most simps the wrong idea. And besides; they wouldn't know the difference.
I suspect the REAL problem most plebs have w/'Salmon Run' is that it ain't the Shadow Ring no more. Or even remotely similar. What's that old sayin 'don't let your alligator mouth write a check your hummingbird ass can't cash'? Somethin like that. That's sort've what's goin on here; the guy is "commissioned' to do an lp's worth of work but what them commissoners didn't say (yet merely presumed) was they expected something along the lines of-who knows?-'City Lights' or 'Lindus'. Or any of them in between. So from that pov it's easy to see how one (or two) would be disappointed w/what was delivered. Some's out there just want to hold on too long to the baby pictures is all. It's just speculation on my part but don't bet me I'm wrong. Unless you got a thing for losin. Believe me, I deal w/dingbats like this more than you could ever know. But enough of that, hey Mr Narrator, let's row this boat ashore, whatya say? Toot, toot!
To my ears, Salmon Run might be the greatest self-released cd of committed excellence I've seen & heard so far this year. Translation; the guy threw caution to the wind & SPENT MONEY on the thing. It's not some shitty burn in a miniscule edition wrapped in leaves or sandwiched between pieces of particle board held together w/rubberbands. Even a goddamned idiot can open it & play the thing w/o the whole package falling apart or risk of some type've infection. Musically it start's out opaque enough but it wasn't long till I was groovin on the narrative atmosphere & felt like I'd been transported to Hades, witnessed the death of Krautrock only to have it transformed into the nascent blurt of late 70's German experimentalism ala the sounds once found on Dom or Selektion cassettes. The influence of friends & peers such as Scott Foust & Jason Lescalleet is evident too & on the whole 'Salmon Run' is brimming w/a positive & slightly dadaesque ambience that most snifflers in the blubbering "avant noise" cdr scene are just incapable of comprehending. Kudo's to Graham Lambkin for stickin to his guns & seein this thing through the way HE wanted it done. Obviously it ain't for everyone which suits me fine. If your looking for an 'organic brain tangle'' here, you've come to the wrong place. Not that it ain't ponderous, but you won't need no Persian throw-rug to sit on & figure it out. Deer Not On The Sofa you say? Dude, you don't have to tell me twice. I can dig it! For those what's curious write; email@example.com