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Friday Full-Length: Mondo Drag, New Rituals

Posted in Bootleg Theater on March 10th, 2023 by JJ Koczan

Based in Davenport, Iowa, before they relocated to Oakland, California, Mondo Drag released New Rituals (review here) in 2010 through Alive Naturalsound as their debut album. In 2008, they’d released a CD-R (that’s right, kids) titled Holy Spirit, and New Rituals‘ second cut “Light as a Feather,” as well as the later pairing of “Apple” and “My, Oh My” featured on that as well, but one way or the other, New Rituals brought 11 songs and 51 minutes of vibrant, semi-traditionalist heavy psychedelia, fluid in its jamming and exciting in its twists of dual-guitars and keys.

The five-piece of guitarist/vocalist Nolan Girard, guitarist Jake Sheley, bassist Dennis Hockaday, keyboardist/saxophonist John Gamino and drummer/vocalist Johnnie Cluney launched with the sprawling, record-unto-itself nine-minute opener and longest inclusion (immediate points) title-track before the two-minute fuzz boogie of “Light as a Feather” and the spacious, jam-born, made-classy-by-the-keys-and-guitar “Love Me (Like a Stranger)” — one of several planets visited with deceptive efficiency to its circa-five minutes — continue to unfurl the scope of the release so that when the acoustic twang and jangle of the nonetheless Dead Meadow-esque “Come Through” starts, it’s not so much out of place as it is the next stop on the front-to-back journey in which the listener is taking part.

And while Mondo Drag at this point where nowhere near as pointed in their direction as they’d be six years later on their third full-length, 2016’s The Occultation of Light (review here), which was the prog-tinged answer to 2015’s Mondo Drag (review here) (recorded in 2012), the encompassing breadth of New Rituals holds its own place in their catalog and offers a persona distinct from what would come after.

Listening now, I like it better than I remember liking it when it came out. The band sounds adventurous and exploratory as they take the Stooges-with-organ psych bounce of “Serpent Snake” — built off of Holy Spirit‘s “Through the Eyes of Serpents,” but longer with a dream-blues break in the middle and subsequent hypnotic crescendo of two guitars soloing organ for added impact over the steady nod of the bass and drums. I stand by what I wrote in the review linked above — I went back and read it, which I don’t always do; one prefers to keep the vestiges of one’s sanity, and decade-old typos are bad for the soul — but I think ultimately I could’ve been kinder to New Rituals, and that perhaps in the last 13 years my ability to appreciate an album like this has grown.

As New Rituals casts an overarching and organic atmosphere to tie its songs together while seeming to follow one whim after the next in terms of the actual songwriting — the layer of acoustic guitar nestled into the mix on “True Visions” putting the mondo drag new ritualslie to the notion that Mondo Drag were half as languid as they could come across when they wanted to or that their being so meant they were lazy in terms of craft, which “New Rituals” itself makes clear they weren’t even before everything that comes after reinforces the point — the band leave a trail behind that’s a joy to follow, and I’m only too glad to unironically call it rad in the going.

But they were cool in what was then a next-generation fashion of which I was wary, and I think that frame tinged how I heard it — also it’s not a minor undertaking at a bit shy of an hour; the vinyl version eliminates the CD’s closing duo “My, Oh My” and “Tallest Tales,” bringing the runtime down to a single LP’s 39 minutes — but if New Rituals came down the wire today, it would still sound fresh in its will toward a natural, band-in-room presentation, and it’s no more dated in its affect 13 years later than it seemed to want to be in the first place.

The tones are warm, the material is varied, with the melancholy drift that caps “True Visions” contrasted by the soon-to-be-melted initial garage rock push of “Apple” and the brightly folkish acoustics of the instrumental “Black River” just a couple examples of Mondo Drag‘s per-song shifts in purpose, and through it all the band retains a sense of character that comes through in how they play as well as in the production on which they collaborated with engineer Pat Stolley, who also mixed and deserves a thank-you card for his effort in that regard, succeeding in the probably significant challenge of nailing the balance of elements in “Come Through” and the markedly-less-country “Black River” as well as the fuzzed jabs of “Light as a Feather,” the wash that takes hold in “Serpent Snake,” and so on.

By the time they arrive at the clear-headed strum and stomp of “My, Oh My,” with its handclap-ready snare punctuation and mellow shuffle early and hand-percussion-inclusive still-controlled relative freakout in its second half, Mondo Drag have made a case for themselves as masters of understatement, pulling from divergent aspects of classic psychedelia, blues and progressive rock and creating a niche for themselves while showing potential for deep-dives to come. Formative, yeah, but satisfyingly done and promising in the extreme. I don’t know what else to ask of a debut album from a band like this, or what more I might’ve asked 13 years ago. Time does funny things sometimes.

The bass-and-toms foundation in “Tallest Tales” and the punches of guitar and keys that interject give New Rituals‘ finale a tense start, but the band smooth it out before launching into their last solo-topped stretch, loosely proto-metal but dug into its own ideas of what that means rather than the tropes of retroism that would continue to be set over the next couple years. But from hearing space rock that now reminds me of Temple Fang in “New Rituals” to the intentional meander of the back halves of “Love Me (Like a Stranger)” and “Apple,” hindsight gives a lot to appreciate in what Mondo Drag were able to accomplish in this first record, and as it’s been about four years since first word of a fourth album that may or may not manifest anytime soon (never say never in a universe of infinite possibilities), the chance to revisit this earlier stage of their development — and mine, if you count that review — has only furthered anticipation for what that shape that next release might take, if any.

As always, I hope you enjoy. Thank you for reading.

It’s 4:59AM now. I woke up around 2:35, just kind of got up. I’ll be tired tonight, but, well, I’m tired every night, and I’m pretty sure that even if I slept until five or six or whatever I would not be magically cured of fatigue on either practical or existential levels. I’ve been waking up early, before the alarm, all week. Maybe the last two weeks.

There’s never enough time. I have to remind myself that there’s never going to be. Constantly. I’ll never have time to do all the writing I want to do, let alone the energy, and that’s it. Accepting limitations. A work in progress. This whole thing, still. But if I can get up early and not have an unfinished sentence hanging over my head so that I’m not trying to sneak in a news post on my phone or something when I should be reading to my kid , well, that seems like it’s worth some effort on my part. Things will not always be as they are right now.

Another mantra, and one I employed liberally in what was a pretty up and down week. Half-days at school Monday, Tuesday and Wednesday threw the proverbial wrench in our routine, which sucked, and by Wednesday I was a wreck. Yesterday was somewhat better but the days are a drag and I feel pretty isolated in most of my relationships, including those with my wife and son, which are obviously the two most important in my life. It’s not a pleasant place to be, and I can feel my brain boil when I start to get overwhelmed, which happens pretty much daily. There’s always that voice in my head that tells me they’d be better off without me. I think it’s factually true — I’m not fishing for comments here, I’m stating the truth as I see it — that my presence is a net negative in the house and in their lives, especially his in these formative years. Hey kid, wanna learn how to be a miserable son of a bitch? The kind of guy who gets thrown off-balance by a five-year-old’s backtalk? Here’s how!

To be fair, some of his backtalk is infuriating, but the point stands. Apart from the basics of making sure he’s got food in his mouth and reading the same books 75 times, I’m not sure what good I’m actually doing him. Which makes me sad. All the time. Because the truth is I’m really, really trying to be better than I am, every day, and failing, every day. And basic tasks like putting OxyClean on carpet stains from a dry-boogers bloody nose he woke up with the other day are apparently beyond me, as the bleached-white stains upstairs now show; a reminder for years to come of my general incompetence and ineptitude. The Patient Mrs., in trying to talk me down from being upset about having ruined the carpet we had put in only like three years ago, could not deny that, had she handled it, the outcome would’ve been different.

Wednesday evening we had a parent-teacher conference with his teacher and two of his aides who’ve worked with him for the now-three school years he’s been in pre-K — one in pre-K 3, two in pre-K 4; for which he’s now old — and they talked about how far he’s come in social-emotional development, and it’s true. He’s worked hard and he continues to work hard, reasoning things out. He’s smart. Deadly smart, and quick like his mother. And stubborn since he was born. If he ever figures out what the fuck is going on with himself gender-wise, he’ll (or she’ll?) be on his (maybe their?) way. I wish he still went to OT, but it cost too much to keep going even after we argued for the new prescription to do so so that insurance would cover any of it. But I think everyone should go to OT, if only for practice breathing, so maybe I’m not the best judge.

I’m glad he’s doing well in school. I wish he and I were in a better place, as I seem to be the wall against which he so readily bangs his head — not an enviable role — but at least I can be the wall. And I’m trying not to be a prick to him. Or to The Patient Mrs., for that matter. Trying to give breaks when I can, to not be mad about inconsequential shit, to pick my battles and more often choose to not battle at all, but trying and doing are two different things, and I fail all the time.

Monday a review of the Speck/Interkosmos split, after that, in succession, premieres for Edena Gardens, Karma Vulture, Fatso Jetson and Dun Ringill, the latter a video for their new single. Gonna try to interview Cas from Sasquatch next week to advance the band headlining The Electric Highway, which the site is co-presenting with a butt-load of other entities of varying stripes, and might do a Gimme Metal thing with Johni from Ruff Majik, whose new album is a stunner on multiple levels. It’ll be streamed here on April 27, which is a Thursday, the day before it’s out. I’m already writing the review in my head, because at the most bottom of bottom lines, that’s precisely the kind of dork I am.

Was hoping to go see Jerry Cantrell this weekend and review but didn’t get approved for a ticket or photo pass. Humbling. This is why when people talk about how big or somehow-important this site is I give it so little credence. I’ve been doing this for 14 years and can’t even get on the list at the Wellmont in Montclair for a 50-something grunge guitarist with the dude from The Dillinger Escape Plan singing. I’ve interviewed both Cantrell and Greg Puciato in my time, but I’m nowhere near as cool as I used to be, legitimately. Ain’t even arguing. These periodic reminders are useful in helping me to know my place.

Quarter past six now. Kid’s been up since about 5:25. I didn’t bother trying to send him back to bed; that’s right on the line of when I would and there’s no sense starting the day with what would only be a frustration in the end. Gonna leave it there for now and pick back up on Monday. Thanks for reading and have a great and safe weekend. Don’t forget to hydrate. Should probably eat something too, if you’re into that.

FRM.

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Old Rituals Made New Again by Mondo Drag

Posted in Reviews on February 3rd, 2010 by JJ Koczan

With minds expanded and set to the key of retro, Davenport, Iowa — which for those in the know is called “the San Francisco of Iowa” (that’s not true) — the high toned Mondo Drag emerge bearing psychedelic sweets that seem to melt as soon as they hit your tongue. There are 11 of them, to be exact, and when packaged together and put in the right order, they make up the band’s Alive Records debut, New Rituals. It’s a record about as thick as the band’s collective sonic moustache, and right from the opening nine-minute title track, you know there’s a freakout bound to happen here.

Their heavier moments could be drawing from Graveyard or a less doomed-out Witchcraft, but as change-up tracks like the acoustic-led “Black River” or “Come Through” demonstrate, there’s more to Mondo Drag than mere aping of ‘70s proto metal. “Love Me” is laced with organ-fused heaviness, and “Serpent Shake” takes a later-‘60s acid pop feel, once again making use of the organ, but being more rhythm-driven and upbeat. The changes in attack are subtle, but show themselves more distinctly on repeat listens, and though I don’t know if any of the songs on New Rituals ever prove to be catchy in that “stuck in your head” sense of the word, there is a natural feel throughout the album that sustains the enjoyment level for the duration.

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