While on the surface the band employs the same fuzzy guitars, punchy rhythm, infectious melodies, touch of surf, and doo wop stomp that represents the cadence of the time, the Mumbles kept their subject matter pitch black. No flower power or free love on their 1966 eponymous full length – this jam’s about broken dreams, civil strife, walking through your hometown realizing that the whole place has gone bellyup, and how some dumb-ass ho has done M Yonks wrong. And all this was recorded when he was still a teenager!

Yonkers remains somewhat reclusive these days, partly due to medical issues. However, when Sub Pop reissued Microminiature Love in 2003 to wide distribution (the record was originally released vinyl-only on De Stijl), interest was strongly renewed in the niche he carved in the late ’60s. Yonkers has since played live with acts as diverse as Six Organs of Admittance, Wolf Eyes, and Low. With the Mumbles LP, you can hear the very first chapter in an artist’s career that should’ve been much longer.

In all of its remastered glory, Michael and the Mumbles drops on November 3 courtesy of De Stijl and will be available for preorder soon. Vinyl only.

For fans of:  Strawberry Alarm Clock, Link Wray, 13th Floor Elevators, The Seeds

MP3 :::
Michael & The Mumbles – Need Your Love
Michael & The Mumbles – Anything

Whoever said you can’t judge a book by its cover is an asshole. I was introduced to The Folklords‘ Release the Sunshine whilst poking around Ear X-Tacy over the weekend. Like magnetism, my eyes locked on this record that was on display in the psych/kraut/experimental section from rather far away. The kaleidoscopic band photo with a Polaroid-washed palette, Indian-inspired hippie chic wardrobes, and the album’s title imposed over a doily-like paisley sun in the upper right hand corner – oh hell yes, this record’s going to be very relevant to my interests. And they’re called the fuckin’ Folklords. You know this is shit’s gonna be rowdy. So I picked it up.

The record sounds exactly as the album art suggests – good vibin’, sunny, spellbinding, lazy and hazy psychedelic electric folk with serious zither and autoharp solos in tow. Originally released in 1968 on Canadian imprint Allied Records, little is known about this Toronto trio and their only album. Their obscurity says nothing about the quality of the music – only that the late ’60s were quite a competitive period for this type of sound. As the liner notes suggest (and I agree), the Folklords, strangely enough, sound closer to the Creation Records groups of the mid ’80s, the British bands emulating the timbre of flower power, than many of their contemporaries in 1968. This is especially pervasive on “Thank You For Your Kindness,” included below. You can extrapolate whatever you will from this sentiment.

Release the Sunshine isn’t anything you haven’t heard before, but it’s exciting nonetheless to find a pretty good document of Canada’s response to the west coast sound – one that was swept under the rug, no less. Fortunately, Lion Productions, who specialize in grabbing obscure psychedelia and craftily remastering their finds, recently released this gem, and its available here.

For fans of:  West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band, The Left Banke, Margo Guryan

MP3 :::
The Folklords – Forty Seconds River
The Folklords – Thank You For Your Kindness

On this holiday celebrating a rather goofy nation, it seemed poignant to post about one of my all-time favorite artists, also somewhat goofy, who happened to adopt a most festive and patriotic namesake – The United States of America. I’m still blown away every time I consider that this album, their one and only eponymous record, was recorded in 1967.

The United States of America was so far ahead of its time that it sounds futuristic even today. “The American Metaphysical Circus” provides a starting point for the marriage of psych pop with soaring melodic choruses, noise flourishes, and electronic structures adopted later by groups like Broadcast, Need New Body, early Stereolab, et al. Also make note of wonderfully drugged out lyrics: “and the price is right, the cost of one admission is your mind.” Word. “Heresy” is a better and more interesting outtake of “Coming Down” off the original release, and almost evokes a very distinct baroque flavor that, despite its major key tendencies, feels somewhat ominous. Hands down one of the most underrated artists of the ’60s.

Have a fun holiday weekend. Beer and fireworks. Be sure to mix the two.

MP3 :::
The United States of America – Heresy
The United States of America – The American Metaphysical Circus

Especially in music, it seems there are a lot of names that most prominently exist as a footnote. I’m sure that’s a peculiar place to find oneself in. You see this often in the quite communal scenes of the late ’60s and early ’70s, the best example being the Beatles and how everyone associated with them gets the distinction of “sixth Beatle,” “seventh Beatle,” and so on. Marmalade is such a group. Most music dorks seem to immediately associate Marmalade as simply the group that did a decent cover of a Beatles song, and that Jimi Hendrix was really stoked on the group in 1967.

Hendrix was particularly impressed by “I See the Rain,” and for good reason – it’s a flawless psychedelic pop nugget. They had other great songs as well, but as the group progressed through the end of the decade and into the early ’70s, it was cleared that the group was abandoning its sensibilities (originally acting as the Scottish response to English beat groups like The Hollies), taking off in a very, very pop friendly direction. Not cool quirky pop like the Free Design, but like, sickly, lazy AOR boogie like Seals & Crofts and Bread. You can hear the degradation on the Very Best of… compilation, from beginning to end. Of course, it wasn’t just that Marmalade was altering their sound to glide with the times – they endured countless lineup changes, vividly recounted in this AMG article.

With that said, however, the Marmalade, in their early years, was a painfully underrated psychedelic British pop outfit. They maintained two bass players (something I appreciate as a bass player myself) – one traditional four-string bass and a super low-end six-string, which concocted a subtly unusual sound amidst the flurry of major key melodies. “Man in a Shop” is the type of sweet, overpowering baroque pop song that warps your mind and makes you think you could land softly if you leaped off a building holding an umbrella. And with that said, below are two songs that, in my opinion, make Marmalade memorable. If only they followed this direction, lineup circumstances notwithstanding, Marmalade, in a personal and respectful hypothesis, would’ve had the rabid cult following that many of their late-’60s psych pop contemporaries enjoyed then, and today, rather than be relegated to the footnote realm.

MP3 :::
The Marmalade – I See the Rain
The Marmalade – Man in a Shop