PDF - Volcano Publishing
Transcription
PDF - Volcano Publishing
+ SUUNS ALLAH-LAS GNOD + MORE 1 FREE 2 For Record Store Day 2014, Teeth Of The Sea (TOTS) released their re-imagined score to Ben Wheatley’s A Field in England. TOTS have taken familiar passages from the score in new directions with their own characteristic sound and eclectic cast of instruments. A Field in England is set during the English civil war and follows Whitehead (Reece Shearsmith) on his mission to arrest a rogue alchemist named O’Neil (Michael Smiley). Led from battle in search of a fictional alehouse, Whitehead and a “merry band” of deserters soon find that O’Neil has in fact imprisoned them. Captive in a field, subsisting solely on mushrooms and liquor, their perceptions become warped as the magic grows stranger and stronger. The psychedelic drama is set against an ominous soundtrack by Jim Williams, who TOTS describe as “an incredibly underrated soundtrack composer”. The group’s interest in the film is long standing. “We knew about it before it came out, and we’d all been looking forward to seeing it”, they recall. So, when Cork Film Festival approached TOTS with a commission, they confess that they “jumped at the chance”. For them, the soundtrack’s appeal was that “we were very into the folksy touches and the darker ambient sounds”. TOTS were conscious of the balance between keeping the re-imagined score faithful and making it their own. Building upon elements of the original, they explain “We basically came up with three ideas… jammed them out between ourselves pretty spontaneously and adapted them as we went along.” The project also led them to conjure new sounds: “It’s a lot more restrained and pastoral that anything we’ve done before, which made a nice contrast with the dystopian bombardment of our last album proper [Master, 2013].” However, no film festival performance would be complete without visuals. So, collaborator Benjamin Barfoot was on hand to create an accompanying film piece based on rough demos from the band. The record’s three tracks are each titled with recognisable lines from the script and pay homage to distinct elements of the score. Side A is given to ‘Whilst We Live In Fear of Hell’. Clouds of ambient notes surround distorted trumpet lines, which periodically subside to introduce a calm and crisp acoustic guitar refrain. Side B opens with ‘An Ungodly Scheme’. Arpeggios from a lone electric guitar roll mournfully over a backdrop of feedback, providing an ever-changing yet everfamiliar scene. Next, ‘Open Up and Let the Devil In’ closes the record. This is the most recognisable of the three, which TOTS describe as “a more electronic version of the marching theme from the end credits”. It opens with a colossal mass of drums before introducing the dissonant harpsichord notes of the original score. The track grows into an asteroid shower of far-flung instruments, marking an intense climax to the record. TOTS seem humbled by the support they have received from the original creators of the film and score, remarking that they have been “very supportive and helpful throughout”. In fact, Jim Williams and the film’s producer, Andy Starke, flew out to the Cork performance and the band proudly confirm that “they’ve all got a copy of the vinyl.” Regarding the Record Store Day release, the band add “It was nice to be a part of the whole thing as a celebration of record retail.” Ben Wheatley directed one of the most broadly psycahdelic movies of recent memory in the shape of 2013’s English Civil War drama A Field in England. TEETH OF THE SEA were given the honour of reimagining the raw beauty of the original soundtrack, and spoke to DAN HUNTER about the creative process behind the project 3 Combining pounding rhythms reminiscent of an android Bill Ward jamming alongside a throbbing wall of electronic sound of which Conny Plank would no doubt have been proud to reside over, SUUNS will make you move. HARRY SWORD asked them about the primal power of their groove ‘‘The rhythmic thing came out naturally throughout the years. Early on we realised we wanted to create a real groove within our songs, rather than having a more structured approach to the writing. I think that came about with Ben (Shemie, vocals) having not really experienced singing before – so when you don’t have that vocal drive you can play about with the rhythms a lot more, jam out on one note…” explains bassist Joe Yarmush. Montréal’s Suuns are anything but “one note”, however. The quartet formed in 2006 and since then have been experimenting with fractured post-punk dynamics and a willingness to utilise mind bending studio technology, all the while underpinned by their trademark pulse. On debut LP, 2010’s Zero’s QC – Shemie’s lysergic drawl was used only sparingly, his hushed tones initially calling to mind the chilly detachment of early ’70s Velvet Underground, but 2013’s Images Du Futur saw his vocals take a more prominent role – alongside a notable kosmiche influence. ‘‘A lot of electronic music influenced us, from the bottom end, and also the late ’60s/early ’70s Krautrock thing – which in turn was a huge influence on modern electronic music. I got into the whole krautrock thing a bit later on. You know, I love Can but it’s not BEN GRAHAM meets Portuguese astral travellers BLACK BOMBAIM “There’s a very big following right now in Portugal for psychedelic music,” says Tojo Rodrigues, bassist for Portuguese heavy psych trio Black Bombaim. “Not many bands, but a big following.” As evidence, he mentions the major Reverence Festival, set for September 12-13 in Valada, where Black Bombaim will play alongside Hawkwind, Electric Wizard, Psychic TV and a full international spectrum of contemporary psych. On a smaller scale, the annual Milhoes de Festa in their hometown of Barcelos this year featured Earthless, High On Fire and Teeth Of The Sea among a typically eclectic line-up. “When a festival branches out like that and does different stuff, it doesn’t sell tickets, but people who go there start opening up their minds to different sounds,” says Tojo. “Reverence is the proof of that; people are far more into psychedelic music now than they were four years ago.” Black Bombaim – Tojo, guitarist Ricardo Miranda and drummer Paulo ‘Senra’ Goncalves – started playing together as school friends in Barcelos seven years ago. Initially influenced by Black Sabbath and Kyuss, they dug into their parents’ record collections and discovered Pink Floyd and Krautrock acts like Can and Ash Ra Tempel. Hearing San Diego’s Earthless was a turning point: “That’s when we realised we could go on without a singer. We thought we could do that as well, because that’s what we already did, in our rehearsal space, we just used to play for hours and hours.” The band persuaded Earthless guitarist Isiah Mitchell to play on their 2012 LP Titans, alongside Comets On Fire’s Noel Von Harmonson and The Stooges’ Steve MacKay. “We just invited them to play, and they accepted it,” Tojo shrugs. “Like Steve MacKay; I was staying at [Lovers & Lollypops label boss] Joaquim’s house, and Steve MacKay was in the next room. He was playing his saxophone; he was collaborating with an electronic 4 project in Porto. So I just asked him.” Black Bombaim have also collaborated with Manchester’s Gnod and older Barcelos jazz-rock band La La La Ressonance, and their current album, Far Out, was released on the revered Cardinal Fuzz label. Yet they’re still often met with bemusement in their homeland. “People wouldn’t understand in Portugal,” Tojo admits. “They would always ask us, why are your songs so long? It’s too crazy, you guys need a singer. Until we really forced it on people it wasn’t accepted.” Tojo points out that the right-wing dictatorship from 1933-74 militated against any psychedelic tradition in ’60s Portugal, although Brazilian Tropicalia was always popular, and still informs the rhythms of today’s Portuguese bands. The exception was Quarteto 1111’s Moody Blues styled symphonic rock; singer Jose Cid also made the prog classic 10,000 Anos Depois Entre Venus e Marte, before embarking on a hugely successful middle of the road pop career. Tojo also denies that Portugal’s liberal drug laws (all drug possession was effectively decriminalised in 2001) are particularly relevant to the current psych boom. “When we were kids we did drugs, but not so much right now,” he says. “And other bands as well. But I don’t think that influenced the music as much as it did in the ’60s. You’re now influenced by the music of the ’60s, not the drugs.” something that I can listen to all the time. I’ll put on an album and probably make it through half of it. I like the approach, that feeling of a controlled jam out.’’ As it stands though, “jams” are actually pretty far from the taut musical lexicon of Images Du Futur. Rather, the record is full of the kind of sultry, low slung gear that one can imagine hypothetically accompanying David Bowie on a midnight stroll around Berlin as he took time out from recording Low – all sex, sleaze and sadness. But while Sunns may, initially, seem more at home on a bill of electronic leaning music, they see psych as something of a state of mind, rather than set of musical rules, and as such are very much looking forward to playing Liverpool. ‘‘Psych fest is promoting newer, interesting music that you wouldn’t really see at other festivals, and in terms of that we definitely fit in with the mindset. But it’s such a broad mindset that anything goes, I hope it’s more of a mental thing. Because we’ve just played one supposedly ‘psych’ festival where it seemed to be more of a metal leaning thing, and I think I must have heard the same Sabbath riff over one hundred times throughout the day. So yeah, it’s really cool that the Liverpool guys are taking this open approach be that through crazy electronic acts, mind expanding stuff or anything that’s interesting’’ he concludes. Texan psych eccentrics HOLY WAVE are a multi instrumentalist spectacular who produce a swirling racket of 13th Floor Elevators proportions. RHONDA LEE REALI was granted a rare audience with the band for a quick Q&A session on the realities of taking this most visceral of shows on the long and winding road Texas-based Holy Wave are reaching our shores again bringing their varied brand of garage, psych and surf sounds to spice things up. Multi-instrumentalists Joey Cook, Ryan Fuson, Kyle Hager, Julian Ruiz and Dustin Zozaya are riding the crest with their success at Austin’s Psych Fest and SXSW, a third tour supporting Sweden’s Goat and their latest album, Relax. Reverberate spoke with Zozaya about touring, birthday serenades and the wonderment of those golden arches. Reverberate: What sights do you want to see in Liverpool? Zozaya: Last time, we only saw one block. I think Liverpool was playing Arsenal, so it was really tense. We’re looking forward to seeing more of the city. R: No Beatles’ nostalgia tours? Z: I don’t know what spots to go to. I’d have to look them up. I’m sure I’ll be into that, though, I’m more into just wandering. R: Are European audiences so different from ones in the US? Z: It’s absolutely true that they‘re different. There’s generally more enthusiasm in Europe. Not that there’s not any sort of enthusiasm in the States… I think we just bring an exoticism to them because we’re from the States. It’s more exotic when we’re in Europe, like we’re more exotic. We’re received well in the States, too, but people come out to our shows in Europe a lot more then they do there. R: Best and/or unusual audience incidents/encounters – non-X-rated! -from across the pond? Z: Our first show in Europe, ever, was the night before my birthday, in Belgium. It was packed and everybody was really excited about [the gig]. We were a little bit nervous, but it was a really good show, and it kind of set the mood for the rest of the tour. It was the first time we played there, so we had to break the ice a little bit. After midnight, the entire smoking room of the bar sang ‘Happy Birthday’ to me in French. That was a real cool experience! Also, people were singing along in London. That was one of the first times we had ever noticed that people knew certain songs. That people in cities like London and Berlin kind of knew our songs already and had developed their own connection to them – which blew our minds. We didn’t think people even knew who we were! R: Favourite European country or sightseeing spot and the cheesiest? Z: We had a really good time in Spain. I think for a lot of us, it was more comfortable because we grew up with Spanish. We grew up like – literally – 10 minutes from Mexico [in El Paso] so that helped. We have a cool connection with Spain, and we like it a lot. Their culture is so open. Amsterdam was cool, too. As far as the cheesiest, that’s hard to say. It was our first tour in Europe, so there was a magic veil over everything. Even McDonalds was cool! 5 1 2 3 4 the future of the psychedelic record sleeve When it comes to psych, album artwork is of pivotal spiritual significance. After all, this is music that conjures visions: music that can lift the cranium to the outer sphere. the art is – arguably – as vital a part of that whole glorious kaleidoscopic mélange as the music. rocket recordings are known for gleefully stirring the visual cauldron alongside the aural stockpot – allow sophiA stAchell BAeZA to guide you through hells kitchen… Chris Reeder, one half of London/Bristol “outsider psych” label Rocket Recordings, is pretty clear about the future of the LP sleeve – and it’s definitely not bleak. “Quite the opposite!” he explains. “Right now, labels are trying hard to make physical sales of vinyl grow further than they have been in recent years. We’re seeing more lavish artwork and format ideas appearing. It feels like it did back in the ’70s and ’80s when labels tried all the tricks to get more sales – but that left a great legacy of interesting sleeves and formats.” What, then, is this legacy? Where does it come from… and what are they doing with it? Album covers have come a long way from the early days of plain pasteboard covers on 78 rpm Shellac-coated records. In the ’40s, these started to be replaced with hand-drawn illustrations and later – when developments in printing and photography allowed – with photography. Alex Steinweiss, art director for Columbia Records and the man widely held to be the inventor of the album cover artwork saw the marketing and visionary potential in using covers to sell the sounds inside. Steinweiss’ unique style – which involved coloured, curly hand-drawn lettering and an adoption of geometric patterns and folk art symbols – paved the way for greater ingenuity in the medium. Steinweiss was also heavily influenced by French and German poster art: you can trace a similar trajectory of influence between the psychedelic poster and LP cover. Just look at the heavy poster influence behind The Beatles’ Sgt. Pepper’s Lonely Hearts Club Band1, released by EMI Records in 1967; an album which arguably changed the face of LP sleeves to come. A collage of celebrities (88 figures in total) designed by Pop artists Jann Haworth and Peter Blake with the band and set photographed by Michael Cooper, Sgt. Pepper was more than just iconic – it came to define the Eastern esoterica and revolutionary optimism of The Swinging Sixties. It was an album you never forgot. 4 6 An iconic album cover is more than just a visual teaser for the sounds inside, rather it is an entryway pretext for what to expect when the sleeve’s unpeeled. It’s about the object’s physicality, about the procedural journey involved in finding, picking up and turning over. It’s a visual portal into other imaginative worlds, one that stays ingrained long after the record’s run out. But digital promises new entryways into combining both art and music in interesting ways. “What digital opens up is the chance for the art to move,” observes Reeder. “To be interactive, to tell a story, so the role of the art can become even more entwined with the music. Bjork tried something like this [with her interactive “app album” 2011’s Biophilia2]. I’m not sure it fully worked but the door is open for creatives to come up with other ways for art and music to work together.” But back to the physical object: when it comes to the iconography of the psychedelic record, there are some notable prescient examples, certain styles or images that keeps returning like a ghost. That uneven, bubble-style lettering – whose art parallels might be found in Ed Ruscha’s Liquid Words – can certainly be seen veined through much of the lysergic poster art of the West Coast/ Swinging London of the ’60s. Then there are the loose amoebic shapes of the liquid light shows; the nods to Art Nouveau organic lettering and colour palettes, superimposed colours, kaleidoscopic effects, and collage. Certain covers break the mould, of course – Mati Klarwein’s psychedelic-surrealist sleeve art for Miles Davis Bitches Brew3 immediately comes to mind: an Afro futuristtinged landscape unfolds like a yin yang symbol, where white and black, dark and light intertwine in the swirl of a hand clasp. Right now (across the pond in Kentucky) resident Robert Beatty is creating underground, psychedelic album covers where the airbrush meets Photoshop: an Alan Aldridge of the internet4. 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 Since 1998, Record Recordings have been putting out records where the visual elements count for much of their success. Famed for their vivid, neon-drenched hallucinogenicstyle,ReederandJohnO’Carrollworkcollaborativelyandindependently onthegraphicdesignofRocket’sreleases.Thereareheavynodsto’60spsychedelic visuals,butalsotosci-fi(particularlythestyleoflate’70smagOmni),alongsidethe jaggededgesofpunkandthepan-globalgraphicsofAfricandesign.Butnoteverything travelsthelysergicpath.ThecoversleeveforBristolbandHi-FictionSciencecombines aBallardianviewoftheBristolskylinewiththehauntologicaltingeofadystopian sciencetextbook. Intheirwords:“It’slikeGhostboxRecordsmeets’60sindustrygraphicdesign.”Then there’sthetotalitariantremorbehindTheHeads/WhiteHill’sCollision Vol 15LP,with itsnodstoMussolini-eragraphics,asahugefascisteaglesoarsupwardstowardsthe sky.Theinspirationsforthiswere,notesO’Carroll,astrangebrewofthedesignbook Iron Fists: Branding The 20th Century Totalitarian State alongside Barney Bubbles eraHawkwindart.Ialsodetectawiderstrainofthetotalitarianbehindsomeoftheir stagedesign.WhenO’CarrollwentontourwithGeoffBarrow’sBeak,hislightshow’s emphasiswasonsubliminalspectacle–amoreminimalistaestheticthatpushedthe throbbingstrobesofWWIIprisonerofwarsearch-lightstoblind theaudience.WithTheHeads’designs,meanwhile,itwasall colourandpattern. Some of their biggest hitters certainly weave towards thekaleidoscopicsideofthespectrum–theiconography oftheliquidlightshowisparticularlyeffectiveinthis. Indeed,theliquidlightshowhasahistoryofgracing rocksleeves.IronButterfly’sIn-A-Gadda-Da-Vida6(’68);thebackcoverofMobyGrape’s eponymous’67debutalbum;theAndyWarhol-producedThe Velvet Underground & Nico7 (’67).WhenLondon’sUFOclublaunchedasNiteTripperinDecember’66,theposter’s designincorporatedayoungwoman(PeteTownsend’sgirlfriendKarenAstley,noless) withalightshowspellingoutthewords“NiteTripper”projectedontoherface. AndO’Carroll’sownexperiencescreatinglightshowsarewovenintohissleeveart,a caseinpointbeinghisartworkforTheHeads.Alongsidethe“Heads”covertitlefontbyMr Price,therestwas,explainsO’Carroll“mypureindulgenceinto’60spsychedelicartwork.” Everybody Knows We Got Nowhere8 nods to the mixed-media collage style of FrenchcomicbookartistPhillipeDruillet’sLa Nuit,withO’Carroll’sownphotographs ofhisoil-basedprojections.Thisisn’tstraightuplightshowphotography,alaIron Butterfly.Photographsandcutupsoflightshowimageryare,rather,integratedinto thegraphicdesignofthesleeve.“Iliketomixitup,”heexplains.“Ilovethe’60sstuff; theMarkBoyle,UFO,SoftMachineperiodoils,butI’vealsogotaveryheavyinterestin moreexperimentalblackandwhite(suchasInstructions For A Light & Sound Machine (2005)byPeterTscherkassky).Rightuptomoderncontemporaryvisuals.Thebeststuff doesn’tjustcopythepast.”ThelightshowLPsleeveisn’tgoinganywhere,then:recent releasesin2014includeOrvalCarlosSibelius’Super Forma9vinyl,Frenchpsychedelic rockerAxelMonneau’sfacevisiblyawashwithcolourfulliquidlight. Thelogoisanothercrucialelement.There’sacomic-bookinfluenceintheRocket Recordings logo, which shares something with that of San Francisco’s Amoeba Records,comingcourtesyoftheSpanish-WestCoastartistFrankKozik.In1981,Kozik begandesigningandpostingblackandwhiteflyersforfriends’bandsontelephone poles.Hisreputationsky-rocketed,andsoonhewascreatingartworkforthelikesof PearlJam,TheWhiteStripes,TheBeastieBoys,GreenDay,NeilYoungandNirvana. Thepsychedelicrecordsleeveisladenwithhistory–heavywithpastreferences, symbolsandsignifiersforthelysergicexperience.Thelegendarygraphicdesigner BarneyBubbles,amanoncedescribedbyPeterSavilleas“Themissinglinkbetween popandculture”isonewhoseimpactspanswidelyacrossthedesignworld.ForRocket Recordings,it’sheavy.Bubbles’Glastonbury FayreLP,completewithalltheinserts andprintedbagwasa“hugeinfluenceonRocket’searlydays,”Reederexplains.In Search Of Space10,Space Ritual11andDoreimebyHawkwindarementioned. “Infact,ALLthesleevesofBarneyBubblesareamazing.Iwenttohisexhibition several years ago and was blown away with his work and attention to detail and levelsofconceptinhisart”hecontinues.ThereisalsomentionofLaBoca’sEmperor Machinesleeves;RudimentaryPeni’sDeath Church12,andRound The EdgesbyDark. “Wellinfactit’sacrapsleeve,butit’ssocrapit’sgreat!Justlookattheback.Whoput theletterboxthere;whopissedonthewall?…Ilovetheabsurdnessofit!” EarlyNeu/KraftwerkalbumsplusthoseearlyStereolabreleasesarealsoheavy influences,partlyduetothe“simple,repetitionandhandfinishedapproach”.“Istill thinkMudhoney’sSuperfuzz Bigmuff13sleeveisaworkofgenius!Itdescribesthemusic within[it]sowell,”headds. Goat’sWorld Music14isalsooneofRocketRecordingsmostpopularrecentcovers. Theresultofalast-minute“eureka”momentafteraphotographerpulledoutof the job, the design combines afro-tribal patterns with a die-cut sleeve – visual inventivenessthatsitswellalongsidetheauralweirdnessoftheirdisco-doom-psych andkrautrockleaningcombinations.Thedie-cuthasfilteredonthroughalegion of album sleeves – all the way back to the first Nucleus album Elastic Rock15 on Vertigo.SaysReeder:“IrememberatATPlastOctoberwhenGoatplayed,Iwentto checkoutthemerchtableandalltheLPssetuparoundGoat’stable,likeMogwaiand Superchunk,allhaddie-cutsleevesontheirlatestalbums.Itdidmakemelaugh!” 12 14 “Digitalopensupthechanceforthearttomove,to beinteractive,totellastory,sotheroleoftheart canbecomeevenmoreentwinedwiththemusic” 13 15 7 The quest continues for GOAT, as the new album drops two years after the revelation that was World Music. PHIL ISTINE discusses Commune, spiritual endeavours, and their hesitancy to open up No matter how determined an interviewer can be, getting anyone from Goat to enter into a free-flowing dialogue about what they do – and what they do is magnificent – is akin to winning an Olympic Gold. Reverberate would wager the latter task is actually a breeze in comparison. But that is what we are here to do, and anyway trying to battle the wall of anonymity feels strangely satisfying. ‘Hide From The Sun’ was the first (dramatic, fuzz-drenched, Arabian-influenced) sound the world heard of the band’s second period. It was amusing to read descriptions of the Goat sound the first time around. Scarce few adjectives do justice to its full dynamic range. “Afro-psych” was a popular effort, taking the Afrobeat name and subverting it, much as the band do themselves. It does not however encapsulate the true fusion-led nature of their sonic world of heavy percussion, chanting, stinging guitar, wah-wah funkiness, progressive song structures, and plenty more. Funkadelic’s breathtaking 1971 album Maggot Brain is perhaps the best go-to comparison, but it 8 doesn’t reflect the serious, spiritual nature of this thing called Goat. Funkadelic were also a loose-limbed collective, defined as much as by a leader calling the shots and a party lifestyle. Neither particularly apply within the Goat Collective. In simpler terms it was the sheer shock of hearing World Music in 2012 that turned a lot of heads, and maybe even the occasional stomach, to Sweden, as here was a left-field assault on what we’d come to expect from psychedelic adventurers in the new century. Was this mad crazy rattling, played by a bunch of undefined men and women in elaborate dress and masks, actually happening? Was it real? Yes it was. It was, more accurately, hyper real. Hands down it was the best record of that year, and their snowballing following has since threatened to break them out of cultdom. Though, through the sheer weirdness and un-radio-friendliness of the songs, it’s unlikely to actually happen. Thankfully. Commune, their second studio LP, has taken the interstellar baton of WM and continued the mission, but not strictly repeated it. Its appearance, with its minimal artwork and nameless players, continues to add to the mystical feel they project. Commune is slightly more restrained, moodier, and defiantly more philosophical. The more confident listener can handle the droning and hypnotic polyrhythmic journey they take us on without having to resort to fuzzy acid-rock guitar solos for familiarity and comfort. The vocal parts are often a revelation, and almost gospel in their conviction – even if they are often recorded in a reverberating way that makes deciphering them require some serious concentration. This, Reverberate suspects, is entirely their aim: full immersion. From the opening chimes and repetitive riffs of ‘Talk To God’ the listener is put in a trance-like state, unlikely to wake for the nine track duration. Reverberate now has a rare chance to sit down and talk with an anonymous member of the Goat Collective. Friendly interrogation can commence. Unlocking the method behind this brilliant madness should be possible, it’s been done before with countless bands. And yet, and yet... we only get a partial take on the complete masterpiece, and what we do get may be spoken with tongue metaphorically in cheek. It is very hard not to have a reservation or two in the answers provided. Readers should not only take them with a pinch of salt, but a truckload of sodium chloride. Or, looking at it another way, it is quite possible everything is said with unquestionable sincerity, and only a cynical hack would deem them to be overly earnest or entirely fabricated. Perhaps best if you decide for yourselves Even a simple introductory “How is the band?” is greeted with a wider theory of what this “band” is. “Our view of the world and humankind” he begins, “and its cultural expression is that we are all part of the same tribe. With more similarities then differences.” Yes yes, lovely sentiment. So you are not a tight unit of like-minded individuals living the village life? “The Goat commune still resides in the north [of Sweden], but members are spread out. Some people just moved to Florida for example. I’m often in Korpilombolo now and at this time of year the sun doesn’t go down.” The story of them being from the remote Korpilombolo seems to have dissolved recently, and the boring truth might just be they convene and record in Gothenburg. Perhaps. When Reverberate suggests that they appear to live in a singular world, with little care for what other fellow psychonaut travellers are doing, the rebuttal is swift. “Being influenced by new things is a positive thing and one of the good things about us travelling. The way we see it, our musical identity is [based on being] to always stay open-minded towards all other musical and cultural expressions.” That was pleasantly unexpected. Asking further about inspirations allows for a rare moment of specificity. “It is everything between heaven and hell, really. Recently some old Malian stuff has been played hard in the studio, like Guelewar, Kanaga De Mopti and Super Biton. Some other day people go off to Giorgio Moroder.” The themes addressed on Commune are clear enough from the song titles alone, encapsulating treaties on the nature of God, slavery, tribe life, and spirituality. “The poetry is still simple,” offers our interviewee, “but profound. We have some people in the family that are good with words.” Everyone in Goat is good at something, more to the point. Being in this collective seems, to an outsider at least, a strong vehicle for self-expression, providing members with a joyous form of spiritualism that can be shared with the world. Our spokesperson today seems taken with this idea, stating that “The most rewarding part of being part of Goat is the sense of collectiveness.” Elaborating he argues that “The less important something is for you, the more you can relax and just love it. Then it gets really good. But don’t claim it. Making music with Goat is a spiritual process and it gives my life meaning. But I can miss a show or a recording session, that is no problem. It has given me peace of mind. But if I would have to quit tomorrow I’m fine with it. I would go and do something else. That’s the whole point.” Clearly some of this free-spirit approach has rubbed off on the audience, and could help explain their popularity. They now are a real live draw across Europe and America. Not that the band necessarily understand why. “The live shows have all been great to play for me. But I’m not sure what people like about us exactly. It is a lot of guitars and rhythms, and masks. That’s about it I think.” There is that. Does he think the world ever wants to see Goat “for real”, without the stage gear? “No. We will always wear masks.” As we’ve broached the subject of disguise and why getting substantial information from them is so hard it is time to push further. But it’s met with textbook politician-style side-stepping. Reverberate hypotheses that it could be a contradiction to release music for public consumption and still claim to be outside of the publicity sphere of talking yourself up. You want more people to listen to your work presumably? “If you think of it, there is just no point for anyone to know anything about us as individuals. But it gives us freedom in many ways. I can’t understand why more artists don’t wanna stay anonymous. It is the music you are interested in, right? And music is just rhythms, melodies, sounds and poetry. But we answer questions about our music and our history. What more do you need? And I see no contradiction keeping the individuals anonymous to lift up the collective. We want people to hear our music just like anyone else. But I don’t want anyone to know who I am.” Having no time for individualism and promoting ideas of collectivism is not a very media-saturated 21st century idea, and that just makes Goat all the more refreshing and interesting. Just don’t expect inside leg measurements anytime soon. Are the band the real deal? Reverberate isn’t sure we’re any closer to the answer after our engagement. A band, sorry “collective”, that works so hard to reach out to their audience through music, whilst simultaneously maintaining a dignified distance from these same people, is hard to fathom. The subtext in all this might just be: they merely carry the message, they do not own it. The message is an original, beguiling, Third-Eye pleasing plea to the Gods for better times. In person at The Liverpool International Festival Of Psychedelia the band can show, alongside us, this character in all its full colourful Techincolor glory. Always remember, as the collectives sings, “You’re the Goatchild”. “Making music with Goat is a spiritual process and it gives my life meaning” 9 GNOD are a force of nature: a beautifully intense Mancunian chaos collective encompassing myriad sounds and many people. A craggy rock of counter cultural rebellion in the UK, Gnod ramble rough shod through life propelled by strong ale, stronger weed and the aural talisman of pulsing motorik beats, overdriven soundsystems and pulsating dynamics. HARRY SWORD caught up with Chris Haslam to discuss making things happen… 10 It’s rare to find a group who represent DIY culture as strongly as Gnod. Crass during the ’80s, perhaps – recording, sloganeering and frantically stencilling from the Dial House commune in Epping Forest – or Amon Duul, emerging with a slew of ramshackle jams from the fertile Munich squat scene in the late ’60s. In 2014, however, it is Gnod that perfectly encapsulates a spirit of open collaboration and self- sufficiency. Combining cranky home-spun electronics, free form jams and bowel shaking bass frequencies, they are a primary force in modern psychedelic music – a rambling crew featuring a rotating cast of members, collaborators and friends who have been traversing the boundaries of life and art since 2006. Operating from Islington Mill – a former Victorian Mill near the docks now home to a host of artists and musicians – Gnod rehearse, write and record in the Mill. Self-releasing Abstehen Der Ohren in 2007, a kaleidoscopic array of musical adventures have followed – live albums; studio LPs; split 45s and collaborations. 2011’s Chaudnaud Vol 1 garnered particularly wide attention due to its volatile tumble of astral fuzz and rolling sonic energy. But while that record (and much of the bands earlier material) combined elements of drone, krautrock and ambient influences to visceral effect, recent material has seen the band move away from traditional instrumentation. ‘‘It isn’t really that big a change for us, to be honest,” says Chris Haslam. “When we first got together we were actually debating about whether we should even have a guitarist in the band because we didn’t want to get tied into a ‘traditionalist’ rock set up. A few years in – when the line up got a little more stable – it started to resemble a more traditional lineup but that was more to do with ease of touring and maintaining some kind of consistency of sound.’’ But, while the band have recently begun to experiment with an increasingly electronic palate of sounds, Haslam is quick to point out that Gnod have always worked in a spirit of open collaboration. ‘‘The thing about Gnod is that we’ve had over 30 members pass through since we’ve been going; and we’ve maintained a strong degree of experimentation within the band, nothing is ever stable in the way we make music. The earlier records still had a load of different sounds going on, using random bits of electronics and instruments; setting up weird effects chains, that kind of thing. And whilst the albums might give people a certain impression of what we do, they are really only a snapshot of what we were doing at that time. It becomes real when you see us live as we usually play what we’re doing currently.’’ Indeed, this rough shod immediacy was often captured on early Gnod recordings: jam sessions recorded live on handheld digital recorders and released on CDR. However, the band have found recent inspiration in the primal hypnosis of techno combined with the ever present chaos element of free improvisation. ‘‘Now that we’re more comfortable with the set up,” adds Haslam, “we use a more studio based approach when we make tracks, but still within that tradition of improvisation; we don’t plan it out. There is a huge amount of crossover with electronic music and more guitar based stuff at the minute; they don’t have to be mutually exclusive – personally speaking, I’ve been listening to a fair bit of electronic music recently. I’ve been loving a lot of the Blackest Ever Black stuff – Sandwell District too – they have this dreamlike hypnotic element to what they do which we relate to.” He continues. ‘‘We don’t tend to go into the studio with an exact idea of what we’re going to do, we jam and see what happens; it doesn’t have to be a set way, or sound a certain way… funnily enough, someone in the band has just done a meditation course. They were talking about the length of time it takes to get the body into the perfect state for altered consciousness to descend through meditation: and it’s around the 20 minute mark which is exactly how long a good jam usually lasts for! Pretty much all of our tunes are around 20 minutes long… we get stuff down pretty quickly though. But we’re trying out a lot of new stuff. Right now, we’ve been in the studio with Charles Haywood as part of his residency at Islington Mill. He has an interesting way of working, he’ll give you a rough idea, then off you go, everyone interprets it in their own way.’’ Sensory immersion in sound is thus central to Gnod but as any fan of electronic music will tell you the physical sound system that the music is played through is of paramount importance if full synapse entrancement is the aim – a decent system makes the difference between feeling the music or merely hearing it. With this in mind, the band recently commissioned a full sound system build. ‘‘In Islington Mill there are a crew called Dub Smugglers,” explains Haslam, “who are involved in building systems. We’ve always known that it was important that we could control the sound coming out the speakers and not have to rely on venue PA, which can kill the vibe if it hasn’t got the weight. We thought it would be a good idea to get a rig to take on the road, so we asked them to build one for us. It cost a lot but it was worth it. We now have the advantage of playing anywhere dry with a plug socket: people can actually feel and hear how we intend to sound, rather than it being filtered out through a weak PA combined with an arsey soundman.” Apart from gigging, Gnod have also been able to utilise the system at their self-curated Gesamtkunstwerk club night that takes place sporadically at Islington Mill. An eclectic family affair, the night sees regular live sets alongside DJ support from guests and band members. Less a club-night, more spirited happening. A recent night alongside Maurice Carlin and Bill Campbell saw the band and guests physically improvising the art/decor for the space as the night progressed. As Haslam explains, people travel from far and wide: ‘‘A lot of people travel from all over the place for the nights we have down here. We have people who come over from Europe – and that shows that we’re doing a good thing, even if financially it’s a struggle. We recently had Lightening Glove and Basic House play, and there is a family feel to the events, it’s something that feels important to carry on. And it ties into what we were talking about earlier with the electronic thing; we wanted a space where we could explore electronic music (either made by us or by others) on a great system, music that isn’t necessarily 4/4 for the dancefloor.’’ But while Gnod have also toured extensively, both around the UK and Europe, taking their intense aural chaos to myriad venues and festivals, Haslam is keen to emphasise a difference in attitude in Europe, specifically in terms of arts funding and wider acceptance of the unusual. “The length of time it takes to get into the perfect state for altered consciousness through meditation is 20 minutes, exactly how long a good jam usually lasts for!” ‘‘Generally speaking, Europe has been very good to us. We’ve toured a fair bit over there; they have a more open attitude. The funding is there for arts projects in a way that simply isn’t the case in the UK anymore. Like Belgium, for example. We were booked to play this massive arts centre with gleaming glass exterior, a nice new modern building and we wonder if you can smoke cigs inside and you walk in and there’s someone at the bar smoking a big spliff. There is a bit more freedom there… if that was the UK you’d probably be chucked out for smoking outside the place, let alone in the middle of the bar... There is more trust of people over there.’’ Trust, collaboration and open-ended artistic possibility are all important parts of what drive Gnod to make the music they make and talking to Haslam it is clear that Islington Mill has played a pivotal role in the bands genesis and continued operations – a life hub for the entire Gnodverse. ‘‘The Mill itself has been incredibly helpful to us; most of us do some kind of work there; bar work, cleaning, running the B&B, maintenance or handy work; it helps makes it all possible. A lot goes on here. We’re very much a community, an alternative to the mainstream – there isn’t really a division between the band and our life, this is very much a full time affair. And although most of us are too young to have experienced the ’90s free party scene it’s a tradition we have respect for, and Gnod is always open to alternative ways of doing things. Like with the soundsystem; we’ll say to people, ‘Look, if you have a space for us, we have a PA and soundman, you might be able to run the bar…’ Do you know what I mean? The possibilities are there for a different way – as difficult as it can be in the UK. And we’re open to that.” 11 Combining wistful melody, sun bleached harmonics and fuzzy surf tones, ALLAH LAS have recently broken through the LA heat haze with a beautifully site specific sound. HARRY SWORD spoke to the band about their origins working behind the counter at the legendary Amoeba Records and why “retro” ain’t no dirty word ‘‘I think the way that the term ‘retrospective’ has became instantly pejorative is really a travesty for humanity – both artistically and politically. Not looking back at the same time as looking forward means you have no balance; no history to look back upon – and you find yourself in very strange places if you do that.’’ Allah Las guitarist Pedrum Siadatian is refreshingly forthright talking about the bands love of sixties sound and aesthetic, a deep understanding harboured by the bands original tenure working at 12 Amoeba Records; but woe betide anyone who throws the term “retro” as a dig… ‘‘I was already working at Amoeba; Matt (Correia, drums) started working – we got along really well. Spencer (Dunham, bass) had home recordings – I had similar recordings that got passed along. We played out first show on Halloween – it was a terrible show, but we kept going – garage-rock was a huge influence on us, and also ’80s stuff like Spacemen 3 and Paisley Underground’’ But while gritty garage rock may have been an influence on the band, the music found on their eponymous 2012 debut was a notably more languid affair, tracks like ‘No Voodoo’ and ‘Catamaran’ coming on like The Kinks, Love and The Dream Syndicate jamming on a padded airship somewhere over the mid Atlantic, aided by a liberal dose of Quaaludes and cheap wine, all blissed reverb and queasy jangle. Capturing a woozy vibe that perfectly evoked the hallucinatory heat haze of LA summertime, Allah Las was a record that charmed with an easy – going sensibility keenly evocative of both the music and physical landscape of its birthplace, not least the ocean. Indeed, the surf underground is a vital part of the Allah Las spiritual genetics; the band are all keen surfers and have previously name checked Laurence Lipton’s 1959 novel The Holy Barbarians, which depicted the beatnik scene on Venice Beach, as a point of interest. ‘‘We all grew up around LA and the surf scene is something we love; friends, the beach, music – it all ties together. We used to watch Thomas Campbell surf movies. In fact, the first basement we rehearsed in was full of Spencer’s dads surf board collection.” Likewise, the music spawned from the city of Angles has also always been close to the bands collective heart: ‘‘Whether it was The Seeds, The Byrds, The Beach Boys or Rain Parade and Gun Club; The Paisley Underground bands. LA had such a wide variety of what I would describe as ‘pinnacle’ music to us. Working at Amoeba, we were exposed to so much music’’ explains Pedrum. This process of musical osmosis at Amoeba saw the band grow to love a particular production sound. But while much has been made of the analogue aesthetics of the first album (a recording process that saw producer Nick Waterhouse testing racks of ’50s gear and dizzyingly expensive vintage mics at The Distillery studio) the band are keen to emphasize the importance of longevity over technique. And if the tracks we’ve heard thus far from forthcoming record ‘Worship The Sun’ are anything to go by, Allah Las will be riding the wave for sometime on the strength of melody, vibe and blissful harmonics, a siren call to carefree summer. As one of the founding members of seminal ’80s garage psych adventurers Spacemen 3 and – latterly – the owner of a successful rehearsal studio, PETE (BASSMAN) BAIN has seen the psychedelic music that he loves discovered, lost and rediscovered time and again over the past two decades. HARRY SWORD learns of the perfect prescription (musical, that is) ‘‘If I could give anyone credit for bringing psych to newer generations it would be The Brian Jonestown Massacre,” says Pete. “I know that for a fact, because we have kids coming through the studio who got hold of their Big DVD, saying it changed their lives and led to an appreciation of older music and all things psych. ‘‘Psych is much more part of the heritage in America – if you think of The 13th Floor Elevators, the San Francisco scene and all the rest of it – they’ve got a heck of a lot of history, and that has inspired a lot of the newer bands. In my opinion, the more new bands the better, you know? I’ve been living under a rock for the last 10 years though.’’ Combining influences drawn equally from lush ’60s psychedelia and raw garage-rock, Spacemen 3 were a vital part of the ’80s underground landscape, with albums like Sound Of Confusion and The Perfect Prescription succinctly joining the dots between amped aggression and spaced drone. However, while they continue to be one of the most frequently sited and vital influences over the modern psych scene, the early ’90s saw the bands demise after an acrimonious split, an event that was followed by the inexorable rise of Britpop – a movement Bain holds little truck with. “Things changed in the ’90s. I thought that everything that we’d been working towards and building up dissipated. And that was largely to do with Blur, Oasis and The Stone Roses. There were some fantastic bands around the time (The Shaman, Loop) but by and large, I hated what Britpop represented. Pale, insipid, directionless, nothing to say – it sounded like dishwater to me, there was no danger to it. When we started we had a punk element to what we did – a healthy anti establishment angle.” After Spacemen 3, Bain was involved in a number of short-lived bands including both The Darkside and Alpha Stone. However, the pressure of trying to organise rehearsals, tours and recording sessions in a rapidly changing musical environment took its toll. ‘‘Every band was a fuck-up, a complete and utter nightmare due to a number of reasons. Going from a well-known to an obscure band is a corruptive process in many ways – at the end of the day it is very difficult to keep a group of people together, keep the practices going and all the rest of it – I’m also running a busy rehearsal studio and have two kids, so time is extremely limited.’’ That said however, Bain still finds the time to gig – and over the past few years has been performing the physically enveloping and synapse expanding solo set that he will bring to Liverpool Psych Fest at venues around the UK. Utilising electronic equipment alongside his bass guitar, he shapes an intoxicating wall of sound. ‘‘I’ve been doing it for so long that I have a bit of an attachment to the machines. Musicians are notoriously difficult to discipline. You have to rehearse them and pay them. In a band, three shows out of every 10 will be shite. But I don’t like unpredictability on the stage – I want to know exactly what is going to be coming out of the speakers, not worried that the drummers done too many E’s the night before and can’t play the fucking drums anymore. That used to drive me mad in bands – one week you could have a fantastic rehearsal, and the next it would be a nightmare. My machines go at exactly the right tempo; they don’t get drunk, they’re not going to have ego problems and they’re not going to walk out on me. So, this is the way it has to be.’’ HARRY SWORD talks fuzz with ANTHROPROPHH’s Paul Allen ‘‘I tend to relate the term ‘psych’ to the mid to late ’60s when the fuzz pedal was used extensively for the first time and bands were starting to utilise the studio as an instrument. The underground scene confused the music industry; but that meant they were willing to take risks to seek the golden goose… I was always particularly enamoured with the UK scene. The underground was trying to make a grey world colourful.’’ As a founder member of premier Bristollian psych merchants The Heads, Paul Allen knows a thing or two about musical colour – it would also be something of an understatement to say he knows a thing or two about the fuzz box. Marshalling a love of heavy tones, legacy FX pedals, limited run editions and heavy duty riffing, The Heads continue to exist in their own – occasional – headspace, with all members committed to various other projects. For Allen, the exotically named Anthroprophh has been the primary outlet for new music. A trio who combine a propensity for twisted electronic avenues alongside hard driving motorik fuzz, a fine eponymous debut was released last year via Rocket, and new LP Outside The Circle is ready for release this September. ‘‘At the end of 2011 The Heads were very quiet and I decided to start doing a spacey and Germanic inspired set of recordings,” explains Allen. “It was winter – I was on my own in a slightly dilapidated house – so it seemed the right time. I’ve been interested in Can since reading a review of Pink Floyd’s Saucerful Of Secrets in the late ’80s where the journalist compared it to Can’s Monster Movie. It took me years to obtain any Can at all though, the LPs seemed unobtainable at that time. It was only until a few years later when joining The Heads that I could listen to these records as the band worked in Replay Records and had decent collections. At the time, the reissues were £15 each and that’s a lot of money when you’re a struggling musician on the dole. When Julian Cope published Krautrocksampler in the mid-90s that opened the gates even more. The music seemed ahead of its time; it was created in a country whose counterculture desired complete reinvention. ‘‘Some of the tracks I have done as Anthroprophh could have been presented to The Heads, but they would have sounded different when passed through The Heads filter. Initially, I saw the two bands as separate projects, but now Anthroprophh is the only means by which I create new material and perform. I’ve tried to avoid more riff-based music so far... but I can’t say whether that will change in the future. I haven’t felt any burden of expectation at all. It’s just been a struggle as with any band starting out. I’ve had a few breaks and support due to The Heads legacy but it’s been hard work and we are slowly gaining some momentum now. The name Anthroprophh is bit ridiculous though, which doesn’t necessarily help.’’ 13 Les Big Byrd As two new Swedish bands – THE JANITORS and LES BIG BYRD – play The Liverpool Psych Fest, JOHAN JACOBSSON looks back at the origins of the nation’s freak scene and its open-minded outlook In 1958 the Swedish safety service engineer Nils Bohlin patented the three-point seat belt – a perfect marriage between nationality and invention. Because in the popular imagination the entire country of Sweden is rather like a three-point seat belt: safe, utilitarian, overprotective, and buttoned-down. Contrary to popular myth though Swedes do not – like in Italian director Luigi Scattini’s marvellous mondo film Sweden: Heaven And Hell (1968) – spend their days having salacious sex and their nights committing suicide. No, what a real dyed-in-the-wool Swede likes to do is to stand in an orderly queue, eat whole-grain crisp bread and fill out complicated tax forms… or at least that’s what some people would like you to think. The truth about Sweden and its Swedes is, of course, somewhat more complex. To paraphrase bowler Jacques in The Simpsons episode ‘Life On The Fast Lane’: “It’s not quite a Nanny State, it’s not quite a free-for-all love fest, but it comes with a handful of lingonberries at the end.” One thing, however, can unequivocally be said about Sweden – over the years much magnificent psychedelic music has been made here. Sixties and ’70s acts like Mecki Mark Men, Pärson Sound (and their descendants International Harvester, Harvester and Träd, Gräs & Stenar), Turid, Baby Grandmothers, Arbete Och Fritid, Joakim Skogsberg, Hansson & Karlsson (as well as Bo Hansson), Älgarnas Trädgård and Pugh Rogefeldt are all household names for the discerning psych head. Additionally – and praise the deity of your choice – Sweden’s psychedelic glories are not all in the past; new mind-bending and mind-expanding bands are blowing up all over this place. Stockholm’s Henric Herlenius plays guitar in The Janitors, one of these new bands. “I think it was [Vice offshoot] Noisey that wrote that for a country with a very strict anti-drug legislation there is a remarkable number of psychedelic bands coming out of Sweden right now,” he smiles when asked to share his thoughts about Sweden as a wellspring for psych. “Personally I’m inclined to believe that the Swedish model – the regimentation of expression and architecture – enforces a need for monotony and noise.” If one tries to find a common red thread running through all Swedish psych groups one has to try hard, though. “Yes, for instance I don’t think there is such a thing as a Swedish psychedelic sound,” Henric agrees. “Everybody – from Goat to Les Big Byrd to Sudakistan to Technicolor Poets to This Is Head to Silverbullit to Dungen to us – is moving in different directions. We all like fuzz pedals, echo and repetition, but that’s about it.” The multi-talented Stockholmer Joakim Åhlund – one of the four pieces that make up the aforementioned Les Big Byrd – is equally unwilling to be labelled, defined, tied-down. 14 “No, I wouldn’t say that we in Les Big Byrd are administering a Swedish psych legacy,” he states after some pondering. “Of course we’re proud of all the great music that’s come from Sweden, and maybe we’re a small branch on a big tree, but I’m not sure that we represent ‘psychedelia’ and I think ‘administer’ sounds too responsibly. We want to be free to do what we feel. There’s as much Suicide and Kraftwerk in our sound as there is Neu!, Can and Träd, Gräs & Stenar.” Correspondingly with these (commendable) sentiments it’s nearly impossible to talk about a real, concrete and contemporary Swedish psychedelic scene. Sure, from Umeå in the north to Malmö in the south clubs are putting on all night happenings – and the now two year old Psykjunta festival is rapidly becoming the event of the kaleidoscopic Swedish summer – but there’s not much in the way of coordinated psychedelic camaraderie currently going on in Sweden. Between autumn 1967 and January ’68, in contrast, the Stockholm nightclub Filips was the undisputed focal point of Swedish psych; all the bands that played there and the people that watched them were part of a very active scene. Yet today… “The scene is starting to grow,” Henric explains. “Lots of small enclaves have now found a home beneath the big psych umbrella. The Swedish kraut scene – which has been happily simmering away for quite some time now – has given birth to a number of groups. And in Malmö all the psych bands stick together, but in Stockholm we don’t form those kinds of collectives for some reason. Although, really, what’s remarkable is that there’s a huge international community of psychedelic bands, promoters, record labels, blogs and fans and that in it everybody helps and supports each other.” Like the Vikings of the 9th to 11th centuries – excuse me for borrowing another image from the cabinet marked “Clichés and overused similes” – a group of Swedish psych devotees is set to soon invade England. Liverpool International Festival Of Psychedelia will host a bunch of Swedish psych groups, among them The Janitors and Les Big Byrd. What can we – the fans, the crowd – expect? “We’d love it if we could get an hour or more of stage time so that we can take a trip together with the audience,” Joakim says. “It would be fun if the gig could take its time, bloom, go through various phases – we do love to improvise on stage. The best thing in the world is to turn an audience into a single large dancing, swinging blob of vibrations. “Lots of new material,” Henric reveals. “We’ll release a 12” on Danish label Bad Afro on September 22nd and right now we’re writing and recording material for the follow up to [our debut full-length] Drone Head, which will come out next year on Cardinal Fuzz. So we’ll premiere a few songs from these releases. I also have this idea to gather all Swedes present at Liverpool Psych Fest and transform LCD Soundsystem’s ‘New York, I Love You But You’re Bringing Me Down’ into ‘Sweden, I Love You But You’re Bringing Me Down’ – an answer to the disgusting rise of fascism in Europe. I’m thinking 20 guitars and a cascade of feedback could go into the history books.” The Janitors SB_Reverberate_02_14.qxd:187X134 05-03-2014 15:12 Page 1 THE BEST OBSCURE PSYCH MAILORDER!! www.shinybeast.nl | http://www.facebook.com/shinybeast.nl|https://twitter.com/ShinyBeastHQ The Psychedelic Spirit in the 21st Century Reverberate No.2 Editor Harry Sword [email protected] Contributors: Ben Graham, Corrina Greyson, Dan Hunter, Phil Istine, Johan Jacobsson, Rhonda Lee Reali Shindig! Editor-In-Chief: Jon ‘Mojo’ Mills [email protected] Associate Editor: Andy Morten [email protected] Publisher: Slim Smith [email protected] Volcano Publishing, 315 Milton Rd, Cambridge CB4 1XQ Communications: Rebecca Bazeley rebecca@shindig-magazine. com Advertising: Cecilia Boggis [email protected] • Subscriptions: Karen Aston [email protected] Design: Mr Smith Printed by: Warners Midlands 15 16