Put a Skronk On It


Why not start the week full force? Whether or not it’s how you mean to go on. I like to moan, well, in general, I was born to it – even by the high standards of the English, but in this instance I like to moan about the accursed dead hand of Hawkwind upon the allegedly experimental music of the young folks and how commonly it sinks into turgid retro sludge substituting volume for imagination. More exploratory voyages along brightly lit and well maintained trunk roads in tired transit vans with a flask of tea than a headlong rush deep into pure consciousness in a spaceship made of sound and fuelled on burning preconceptions. So it goes. Portuguese psych-rockers Black Bombain hit on the solution of picking up a lot of hitch hikers. Steve McKay (of the wild sax on ‘Funhouse’) has been a previous pointer toward this collaboration but even he is dwarfed by the giant swaggering jazz-noise titan that is Brötzmann. There are no road signs here, Black Bombain & Peter Brötzmann pts 1-4 (or 5) gives you nothing but the basics to go on but it sounds much as you’d imagine – a venn diagram of wild psych jamming and discordant free jazz in which the best bits are in the juicy overlapping, interlocking middle section. It’s furious and exhilarating. Come on in, the water’s choppy.



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