Cosmic Wheels | bandcamp |
Released on May 29, 2015 via Heavy Psych Sounds Records
This album may be proof that time machines exist. It slunk on to Bandcamp a couple of years ago with little fanfare, proclaiming to be a rough mix by a couple of brothers called Vincent and Paul Marrone, that had been lost in the mists of MySpace. It also claims to be (depending on who you listen to) either from the mid-noughties or the early 2010s.
It is finally getting a physical release, on vinyl, no less, via Heavy Psych Sounds, the label which specialises in, well, sounds that are heavy and psychedelic. But we’re not fooled. From the first song we know where this heady mix of trippy psychedelia, blues rock and 60s power-trio shenanigans came from. And it ain’t a defunct rudimentary social media platform.
This is clearly from another time – or at least another space.
Wherever it came from, it’s here now. And it’s awesome. The first song, one of all but two entitled ‘Untitled’, unleashes Hendrix-style wailings, shuffle beats a la Deep Purple and riffage that would satisfy the most deaf of Blue Cheer fans. All this crammed into a song just over six minutes long. If it sounds a little disjointed, think of it as a calling card for what is about to follow. Because the second song is pure slide-guitar laden blues rock, the sort that is played in a bar where people drive up in muscle cars and step out ominously wearing flares and tank tops.
The third, however, begins with a Hammond organ and sounds as if they had locked up Jimmy Smith (in a benevolent, to-push-the-boundaries-of-
The fifth is the first to arrive with a title and it could be used to describe the duo, given the trip they have already treated us to. It’s called ‘No One Knows Where They’ve Been’ and it is also the first to have vocals. It is once again trippy and sounds like Manfred Mann would have if they had opted to join a commune and chill the hell out rather than morph into the group that chose to sing the abomination that is Bruce Springsteen’s ‘Blinded by the Light’.
The next two (‘Untitled 6’ and ‘Untitled 7’) are guitar-led boogie tracks and the mildly fuzzy solos bring to mind ZZ Top in their early 70s guise, when they bestowed the classic Tres Hombres up on the world.
Tracks eight and nine (guess what they’re called…) continue the blues rock guitar, with the latter more straightforward, conjuring thoughts of Karma to Burn’s quieter moments. The former could be mistaken for a pre-recording warm-up jam by Cream. Either way, they (and the rest of the songs) display a high level of musicianship with – and this is important – a keen idea of exactly when to stop the histrionics before the whole thing careers off a noodly cliff.
Track ten is the other titled song – ’12 O’Clock Groove Street’ – and it is the only other song to feature vocals. It is atmospheric in the same way the soundtrack to a montage sequence from a kung-fu flick is. In fact you could imagine this song playing while Black Belt Jones walks along a dark street down on his luck, while flashing neon signs advertising cocktails and girls pass in front of his eyes. It freaks out towards the end for a few seconds, then fades out as the album’s closer. And we are left none the wiser where this sonic artefact came from.
The two brothers claim to have played in a band called the Moonshakers before forming Cosmic Wheels. This may be true – but there have been many bands called the Moonshakers. The assertion that these songs were recorded in the early part of the 21st century and the whole thing is merely a well-played, if derivative, dose of psychedelia could also be true.
But they can’t pull the wool over our eyes. We’re sticking to our theory that time machines do exist and it was somehow placed online by a savant from the Seventies. The hypothesis may not be immediately plausible – we know it is utterly implausible – but listen to this album and you’ll come to our way of thinking.
And however it got here, we’re glad it did.
