Psychedelia is an impossibly slow language to the soberer audience. It’s from the other side, communicating after reaching the brink of aphasia. In the translational effort of this often distorted language, Forge You Own Chains is the final presentation of an international dig for 15 psychedelic escape-artists once left behind, welcomed back neatly and preserved in vinyl reverie. Their wise jives from 1968-1974 are intimate signals that were saved from blaring acoustic towers of the psychedelic heyday. With beats too heavy to let wayward guitars wander in the clouds, these Ballads and Dirges revere the good Earth from its every corner, honing their trip rather than inflating it.
The album is a work of rock and roll archeology by Now-Again Records, whose previous research includes The Funky 16 Corners and Cold Heat. Likewise, Chains upholds both the integrity of a genre and the mission of this work. It redefines the texture of psychedelia and with it a new dialect of classic forms. The songs are too smooth to swagger like the memorable giants heard now. These were unsung bands toiling in the fields to cultivate the natural glow of psychedelics while others dissected it in the studio. In an effort to achieve the former, the Beatles even ditched Abbey Road in 1969 for the Twickenham sessions and tried to record as a band again, which became the concept of the film Let it Be. Filming reel after reel of squabbling, they quickly realized the precious achievement of a band that can tell about other worlds without alienating sounds in the studio. Chains is a time capsule of bands who harnessed this fleeting sound. Incredibly, these songs never talk over you, no matter what language they’re in.
As soaked as these songs are with soul, the come-down is noticeable. Songs sometimes get too wasted or lazy rather than hypnotic. The milky “Song of a Sinner” by the Top Drawers slides steadily, but can wander off the path. But the others from overseas share fascinating perspective with familiar groove. The tracers may get boring, but the fuzzy high is a phonic pleasure now only available in this exclusive exhibit.
Nice piece Kent. Great imagery, great verbs. You’d think that would be easy, but it’s hard.
Hopefully that’s how the album sounds to all you listeners.
Check it!
Thanks!