Thursday, December 13, 2012

Pretty “Mustache In Your Face” ep

( I am a Chicagoan who is profoundly proud to share a city with Numero Group, one of the premier reissue labels on earth, and with their 90s rock and 70s power pop excursions of late, one of the great genre defying music houses in the universe. That said, some (not myself) have accused the label of putting concepts and artwork over content occasionally, releasing stunning packages with music that does not reach the artistic heights of the cover/book/baseball card set/whatever it’s wrapped in. I was worried some of these haters might have something to peep about when the label debuted their new ridiculous format --- gorgeous heavy stock full color gatefold 7” x 7”  covers with full color booklets glued into the gatefold, all lovingly housing a pair of singles. Could the 4 tunes live up to this ornate wrapping paper? In this case, FUCK YEAH! Apparently this Kansas City journeyman club band, with some Electric Prunes connections, may have been a more regular act every other day than when they recorded this, but if you are interested in psychedelic music that stays groovy while genuinely getting weird and actual flying around the atmosphere, you cannot top the ultra rare, incredibly dynamic title track. Not only does it have a psychotic label (a red-eyed madman either vomiting out the music from the center hole, or offering a vinyl big hole blowjob) but it invites you into a world of devils, monkeys and a moustache where you’d expect it to be, but discussed in terms that make you question such a placement. I suppose if the lyrics were normal and the guitar effects were not from Jupiter this might seem like an actual sensible record, but that is not the case. The B-side is pretty much a “Part 2” (“Goatee on Your Grill” might have been a better title than “The Electric Hand”) and the second single offers two unreleased psyche workouts that are pretty hot (“Funhouse” is like a themesong for a TV show that Charles Manson might have made the Monkees had he passed the audition and been granted creative control; “Red Spoon Gravy” samples the “All right” from “Jumping Jack Flash” and makes it an affirmation for building a weirdo workout around some handclaps borrowed from “Kassenetz-Katz). Basically, if haters gon hate, so be it, but they could have wrapped these songs in a gilded Bible-sized book with a live tie-dyed pigeon inside and it wouldn’t have overwhelmed the music.

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