Weed, Weed (1971)

Weed‘s Weed is little more than half an hour long, but that proves to be plenty of time for it to summarize much of what was righteous about the heavy rock movement of the early ’70s. The band was founded circa 1970 by keyboardist Ken Hensley, who by then had not only released two records with Uriah Heep, but albums with Toe Fat, Head Machine and The Gods as well. Bringing him to the fore on lead vocals and guitar in addition to keys, Weed would only release this one album during their time together, but it nonetheless captures a moment right at the intersection of psychedelia, heavy rock and what would in the early/mid-1970s become krautrock and prog, something of course Uriah Heep would dig into deeply after their rawer earlier work. Joining Hensley in Weed were guitarist Werner Monka, bassist Reinhold Spiegelfeld, flutist Bernd Hohmann, keyboardist Rainer Schnelle and drummer Peet Becker, some of whom came from the German prog band Virus, and while commonly thought of as a solo-project for Hensley, Weed‘s Weed boasts a definite and significant full-band feel.

That’s true even in the minimalist intro of the organ-led “My Dream,” but most apparent on bluesier cuts like opener “Sweet Morning Light” and its shuffling side B counterpart “Slowin’ Down.” Elsewhere, Weed bask in the second-track balladry that would become a staple of the era on “Lonely Ship” and embrace a wider scope on “My Dream,” leaving the penultimate “Before I Die” to offer piano-led proto-prog and the closing title-track to move into post-Hendrix psychedelic jamming, bass and guitar sparring excitingly over swinging drums and an upbeat push, ending as scorching lead lines are placed one on top of the next until finally the whole thing becomes a wash of big-finale noise. Live-sounding to be sure, but clear, Weed pulls off difficult stylistic pivots with ease and remains something of an underrated addition to the canon of the classic heavy era. A footnote perhaps when compared to the 13 records Hensley put out during his time with Uriah Heep, its appeal all the same runs much deeper than its bizarre cover art and the band’s moniker. If it’s a footnote, it’s a loud one.

And an enduring one. Weed‘s Weed has been reissued multiple times over, by Philips Records, which originally put it out, among others, all the while finding an audience among heads looking to dig into the past. If you know it, I hope you enjoy the chance to revisit, and if you haven’t heard it, I hope you stick it out through the whole thing, because both the trip and the destination are entirely worth the effort.

Hope you dig.

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So uh, hey. Next week is Roadburn. Wish I could tell you the laundry is done, my bag is packed and I’m ready to roll, but the truth is that it kind of snuck up on me this year. I like that though. Better than waiting for months and months more than I am anyway for April to get here. I fly out on Tuesday, get in Wednesday morning to Tilburg, get to the hotel in time for the Hardrock Hideout on Wednesday night, then four days of heavy bliss ensue.

If you don’t know how I do Roadburn coverage, basically my goal is to review each day before the next day starts. This involves a lot of late-night posting, it does not involve a lot of sleep. I hope, if you choose to keep up with that adventure, you enjoy it. There will not be many posts next week aside from Roadburn coverage once that starts. Don’t want to say none, because you never know, but still, if any not many.

That’s okay though, because in addition to a rare Sunday post lined up, I’ve got a full-album stream on Monday for the new Black Rainbows and a track premiere from Sidewave, as well as a full-album stream Tuesday for Merchant and a track premiere for Atala. That’s pretty much a week’s worth of stuff anyway, so there you go. There’s more too. It’s going to be somewhat hectic. No big change there.

Posted about it on the social medias, but we hit a new record for listeners-at-once for The Obelisk Radio this week. It was awesome, and thank you. Wish I knew what was playing at the time, I’d put it on more.

I hope you have a great and safe weekend. Please check out the forum and radio stream.

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I alluded to it the other day in the third SHoD post, but wanted to save the details for this. To briefly recap: I got to Krug’s early Sunday for the third day of Stoner Hands of Doom XI in Frederick, Maryland, and having an hour to kill, decided to go record shopping. Not the first time in my life I’ve made that decision.

Using my magic cellophone, I got directions to CD/Game Exchange on N. Market St., and while on my way there, passed a sign on E. Patrick with Rock & Roll Graveyard printed on it. With hopes that it wasn’t some shitty irono-fashion boutique with $50 torn up Iron Maiden t-shirts on sale for dumb hipster girls who’ve never heard Killers, I nonetheless parked my car and decided to investigate.

A fucking treasure trove, this place was. If I bought vinyl — which I don’t — I wouldn’t have gotten out of there without putting down at least $100, but as it was, I spent only one-tenth of that (or $10) and still got a host of goodies for the effort. From a brief perusal of the CD bin, it was apparent that the owner, whose name is Chris Wolfe, knows his heavy. There was a lot I already had, but I did manage to find the SPV digipak reissue of the self-titled album from Uriah Heep offshoot Weed. It’s another one of those lost heavy ’70s classics that five people in the world preach like gospel and no one else has ever heard of, but man, it’s a pretty killer record. A bit all over the place, but when it locks in, it locks in hard. Dig it.

So that accounts for $5 of the total $10 I blew. The next $4 went to Black Sabbath tapes. Yes, plural. I spent $4 and got four tapes: Master of Reality, Vol. 4, Sabotage and Heaven and Hell. At a buck each, I couldn’t really ask for more. The only one I haven’t played is Vol. 4, because it would require clever fast-forwarding to get past “Changes,” but it was awesome to hear the little differences in the sound on Master of Reality, or the live version of “Sweet Leaf” tacked onto Sabotage — and Heaven and Hell, well, I’ll pretty much take that record on any format I can get it. An all-time favorite for one measly dollar, no way I was leaving that.

Wolfe, who also plays bass in Fat Chick Meat Haul, is a genuine record hoarder and has had the store open for about three months. Most everything he was selling came from his personal collection, and that included the tapes and the lime green 8-track edition of Jethro Tull‘s Aqualung that accounts for the last of the $10 I spent at Rock & Roll Graveyard. Yeah, the tape’s ripped, but what the hell do I care? Jeebus save me, it’s Aqualung on 8-track! I don’t have a player anyway — for a buck, I’m happy just to look at the damn thing and sing “Wind-Up” to myself.

The best part? Well, all this stuff was pretty great, especially for the price, but the best part came in talking to Wolfe about old records and heavy rock and whatever else. He told me about an album from a band called Tin House he’d picked up not too long ago, and when I said it sounded cool (because it did), he went ahead and burned me a copy, right there on the spot, free of charge. And he was right, it’s rightout proto-proggy heavy blues, from the Beatles “oooh-la-la-la” on “30 Weight Blues” to the driving lead of “Silver Star” and the string arrangements on “Lady of the Silent Opera.” I think I might dig it more even than the Weed record.

I don’t know when I’ll be back in Frederick again, but whenever it is, you can bet your ass I’ll be checking in on Rock & Roll Graveyard. Until then, I’ve got the Sabbath tapes in my car, the Tull on my office shelf, and the Weed ready to go. I never made it to CD/Game Exchange, but finding a shop of the niche caliber I did, I’m hardly crying over it.

Find Rock & Roll Graveyard on Thee Facebooks here.