In terms of methodology, it’s been a long time between releases for Australian jammers Frozen Planet….1969, but they haven’t been completely absent. In 2022, the Sydney-based heavy psychedelic explorers released Not From 1969 (review here), which was an all-in collection of adventures in aural chemistry and in-the-open jaunts. Mellow-heavy freedom, wrought and recorded. Echoland is the first time to my recollection that the trio — guitarist Paul Attard, drummer Frank Attard (who also produced and mixed) and bassist Lachlan Paine –have dug into more structured material on a record. To look back at the time since Not From 1969, songs on Echoland like opener “The Plants” or the partially-structured “Setting the Scene for Time to Stand Still” find precedent on later-2022’s Glassblaster EP and the earlier-2025 single “Night Movers,” which does appear on the download of the record in an alternate take, but seems to have come about as the three-piece were reconvening around an evolved intention.

Between the initial tight boogie of “Night Movers” and “Night Movers (Alternate Take,” which crosses the 10-minute mark and feels a bit more jazz-swaggering in its plotted flow, the impression remains centered around live performance. Frozen Planet….1969 haven’t come back after three years with a hyper-produced sound, but the shift in their purpose from pure jamming to building songs out of the material resulting from their jams is palpable even as “Night Movers (Alternate Take)” and everything from “The Plants” onward works in some way to toy with the balance between the two sides.

One finds a winding highlight in the fuzzy lead work of “If I Had Wings,” a sometimes-howling line of soloing threaded, eventually in layers, atop an unassuming backing procession. Psychedelic for the tone, “If I Had Wings” gives over to a seemingly-plotted, not-improvised roll, but the key sounds, the course of the nod that arrives as that lead line departs, and the ease with which they carry the song to the finish speak to the tradeoff being made here. For the band, it’s a change in target for Echoland. It’s not about capturing the moment of inspiration anymore, about how the songs are finding their path through uncharted terrain, but about how arrangements are conceived and executed, and how the band are able to foster a sense of purpose behind the choices they’re making to go where and when they do.

“If I Had Wings” resolves in a kind of well-here-we-are proggy bop, after the organ has stepped up in place of the guitar solo and itself made way for the comedown ahead of the also-five-and-a-half-minutes-long “Plastic Banquet,” which feels immediately plotted in its acoustic-guitar-meets-keyboard unfolding, electric guitar gradually layered in. In this way, Frozen Planet….1969 show that not only are they looking at structure as something malleable to their craft, but also realizing their flexibility in terms of arrangement, which feels as much forward-looking as it does about the present moment. Texture and evocation remain a strong piece of Frozen Planet….1969‘s impression on the listener, it’s just that those and others become tools put to use rather than, to the listener, happy accidents along the way.

And I guess that leads to the central question of Echoland, which is just how academic that difference is in the first place. From its melancholy solo line that’s conversing with “If I Had Wings” before it to the chimes in the midsection and the light Morricone-ism that ensues in the second half, “Plastic Banquet” feels declarative in terms of what Echoland is going for and accomplishing as Frozen Planet….1969 take on this bit of willful evolution, but the primary impact of their work — still feels open. That’s true for the lack of vocals throughout, for the linear nature of the structures employed, for the readiness to shift arrangements and the fact that they actually spend a decent amount of time jamming or recounting jams in passages. Does it matter to the casual listener? Is there a discernable difference between Echoland and an earlier work like 2017’s Electric Smokehouse (review here)?

I hate to say it, but it depends almost entirely on the person hearing it. If you want to put on Echoland and from the classic in medias res rush of “The Plants” dive into the multi-stage dynamism of “Setting the Scene for Time to Stand Still” and experience it on the level of appreciating the decisions that have gone into making it, the careful way that Frozen Planet….1969 have taken these steps to have more of a foundation beneath them even as they continue to harness atmospheres beyond, you can. If you want to just let it go and see where it takes you, maybe approach it without the baggage of consideration among the rest of their catalog — just hearing it — the album accommodates this as well. If you don’t believe me, they have the 18-minute closing title-track to prove it.

Now, I say “closing,” and you should know that “Night Movers (Alternate Take)” follows on the download, if not the compact disc version. But the point is that even in its reaches there’s structure, purpose behind the going. If you told me the midsection was completely improvised, or that the entire second half was improvised, or that the entire thing was improvised around a prior backdrop, I’d believe you, but the point is that by the time they’re 13 minutes deep, it doesn’t really matter whether that little flourish of guitar noise was thought of beforehand or not. A solo emerges from the low-key freakout and carries into more noise and skronk, which they bring to a speedier-shuffle culmination to cap as they otherwise might onstage.

No question they finish with their jammiest take, and the messaging there seems to be that making it up as they go is still a part of who Frozen Planet….1969 are, even if the band’s internal definitions of what they do and how they do it have changed and/or are changing. I won’t predict where another three years will find their sound, except perhaps to point out they seem committed to instrumentalism, but Echoland makes them a stronger outfit because of its ethereal reach and the shapes the band are able to carve therefrom.

Frozen Planet….1969, Echoland (2025)

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Pepper Shaker Records on Bandcamp

Pepper Shaker Records on Instagram

Pepper Shaker Records on Facebook

The Obelisk Questionnaire is a series of open questions intended to give the answerer an opportunity to explore these ideas and stories from their life as deeply as they choose. Answers can be short or long, and that reveals something in itself, but the most important factor is honesty.

Based on the Proust Questionnaire, the goal over time is to show a diverse range of perspectives as those who take part bring their own points of view to answering the same questions. To see all The Obelisk Questionnaire posts, click here.

Thank you for reading and thanks to all who participate.

The Obelisk Questionnaire: Frank Attard of Frozen Planet…. 1969 & Pepper Shaker Records

—

How do you define what you do and how did you come to do it?

What I do in the band? With Frozen Planet….1969 I play drums and help guide our improvisational Musical journeys through different passages uses dynamics and some creative ideas (obviously inspired by my band mates Lachlan and Paul). I began playing drums at age 14 as it seemed like the right thing to do at the time as I was playing drums on anything that made a sound anyways!

Describe your first musical memory.

I remember jamming with my mates from High School.

I remember our first Jam and how exciting it was to make sounds together with our instruments.

Describe your best musical memory to date.

This is a hard one to answer. I’d say I’ve had a bunch of best musical memories and it’s never about doing anything big or playing in front of large crowds but more about when you’re playing well and feeling at one with your instrument and everything is effortless. Them moments are magic and don’t happen that often.

When was a time when a firmly held belief was tested?

Not sure about that one.

Where do you feel artistic progression leads?

Artistic Progression leads to Clarity in ideas and the ability to translate your ideas more efficiently.

How do you define success?

Success is being satisfied with your achievements and leaving you wanting to do more!

What is something you have seen that you wish you hadn’t?

The first 20 minutes of the latest Borat Movie.

Describe something you haven’t created yet that you’d like to create.

Ahh! Definitely a solo-project album. I’ve recorded many self-produced tracks over the years but never put together a cohesive bunch of tracks and released an album. I’d still like to feature many of my talented musical friends as special guests.

What do you believe is the most essential function of art?

Art is there to inspire, entertain and tickle the senses. People Hear, See and Feel things differently and that’s the reason people connect to things on all different levels. I can only relate to my own experiences. A painting can be appreciated for years. A live show can have you on a high for the next day or two! That’s Inspiring.

Something non-musical that you’re looking forward to?

My next meal!

[Photo by Trace McLean.]

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Frozen Planet….1969, Glassblaster (2022)

Frozen Planet….1969 are now, and they want you to know it. The Sydney/Canberra-based three-piece journey forward through their particular realm of the creative ethersphere with three new tracks, cohesive after nearly a decade since their first, self-titled release in the unit of Paul (guitar) and Frank Attard (drums, production) — both formerly of Mother Mars — and bassist Lachlan Paine (Looking Glass), capturing a live sound and improvised-feeling procession across the 45-minute run of Not From 1969. A follow-up to 2020’s Hydroculture, the latest full-length from the richly exploratory trio works in a similar-feeling structure, with one shorter piece, one longer, and one much longer, though in comparison to its predecessor, the order has shifted on Not From 1969 and the total runtime is a smidgeon shorter. Given the improv-sounding nature of their work, the reaches they mine and on and on, one suspects that’s a result of what came out of their instruments that particular day at Frank Attard‘s own Frank St. Studio, and on any other afternoon, “Diamond Dust” (10:45), “Strangelands” (7:07) and “Dissolver” (27:09) might have taken a different form.

It’s an inherent strength of the style of heavy psychedelic jamming that it didn’t, but worth mentioning for sure that as Paine and the Attards present these captured moments, mixed and mastered (the latter by Philip Dust), topped off with righteously stylized cover art (photos by Matthew Slager, design by John Debobo-Cullen), the moments are all the more worth appreciating for the fact that they’ve been captured, perhaps mined out of longer jams, or, as in the case of “Strangelands,” willing to break in the middle of its funky , prog-jazz-ish build in order to pursue a different route altogether. There, as in “Diamond Dust” prior and the massive-even-when-put-to-scale “Dissolver” afterward, Frozen Planet….1969‘s work is deceptively intricate. One can feel them grasping as “Strangelands” falls apart, learning the progression of guitar on “Diamond Dust” as it happens, and answering the beginning fluidity of “Dissolver” with a bouncing bassline and steadily rolling drums. In this way, the band make their transformative motion to the present moment in which they reside. They create the thing as they live in it.

Of course, Frozen Planet….1969 are far from the only act out there with this methodology. Improv heavy psych is a microgenre — that is, there aren’t a ton of people on the planet doing it in earnest, let alone doing it this well — but it’s not unheard of or unfamiliar at least on paper. Where the Aussie unit continue to most shine, however, is in their chemistry and in the unpretentious manner in which they present the results of their experimentation. Take a look at Not From 1969. There’s no claim being laid to unnamed planets, or mountains or giant monsters or cartoon boobs or anything like that. It’s an old radio and eight-track player, and they tell you right on there what they want you to know — that they’re not actually from the year 1969. Especially for something of its ilk, the record is resolute in its straightforwardness, and that applies as much to the music as anything.

Even as they undertake the initial journey of “Diamond Dust” with Paul‘s guitar pushing through standalone Middle Eastern-toned scales building to a wash before the drums and bass join in, they are neither void of effects nor reliant upon them to make their impression. “Diamond Dust” holds to a flowing motion that, yes, has plenty of reverb and echoing notes, but to listen to the bass underlying the guitar — I’ll officially classify Paine‘s tone as “gotta-hear” throughout — and the interplay between that and the drums, the highlight isn’t necessarily that the song creates this ambience so much as it is the conversation that allows that creation to take place. It’s about these three players, not at all strangers by now, celebrating this thing they are when they are together. You can call that reading too much into it if you want, but at its most freaked out, “Diamond Dust” still feels like three artists in a room reveling in the experiential moment. It’s not 1969. It’s not 1996. It’s this very second.

I won’t take anything away from the long-form immersion that’s set forth in “Dissolver,” but “Strangelands” might be an even better example of the communication between players, from its early boogie to the aforementioned break about four minutes in and the funk-via-jazz that takes over later. Obviously I don’t know the circumstances of how much Not From 1969 has been edited, but that moment of transition feels as organic as it possibly could, and even that such a thing is believable at all on a record is a triumph on the part of the band. They continue into “Dissolver” also playing through multiple stages of the longer jam, coming to a head early and then receding atop the easy-rolling drums and bass, funky again before going minimal-noodly in the guitar, eventually emerging in low-end fuzz and a galloping freakout, distortion coming and going, finally seeming to come apart at the finish as all jams inevitably must.

There too Frozen Planet….1969 highlight the human aspect of what they do. There is a stretch to their sound, to be sure. The album is broad in sound and there’s a definite depth to Frank Attard‘s mix — more than enough to get lost in if that’s your aim — but maybe the unspoken command in Not From 1969 can be for the listener to also not be in their own 1969, lost in some flimsy idolization of the past. Maybe this is the band’s message to join them in the present moment, to be mindful and aware of your place in the place that isn’t a place, and to breathe and feel that breath fill and empty from your lungs. There’s plenty to be said for letting the mind wonder while engaging with psychedelic fare — especially instrumental as this is — but approaching “Diamond Dust,” “Strangelands” and “Dissolver” in a conscious state and moving with the album as its follows its various paths is all the more satisfying with Frozen Planet….1969 in a way that isn’t always the case for bands of their ilk. All the more reason to celebrate the moment. Rejoice in the lightning as well as the bottle.

Frozen Planet….1969, Not From 1969 (2022)

Frozen Planet….1969 on Facebook

Pepper Shaker Records on Facebook

Pepper Shaker Records on Bandcamp

HeadSpin Records website

HeadSpin Records on Facebook

Yeah, this is a good one. A lot of this comes from stuff that’s been and is being covered around here over the last couple weeks, and suffice it to say I’ve got no regrets about choosing any of these tracks. I was worried about White Manna getting lost in the Quarterly Review shuffle, so consider this an extra nod to check that out, and celebrating the new Big Scenic Nowhere, Lamp of the Universe, Weedpecker and Pia Isa records feels about right, as well as the Electric Moon collection, Phase, which put “The Loop” right back in my head like it had never left.

Upcoming stuff from Seremonia, Obsidian Sea, Fostermother, and SÖNUS give a glimpse of things to be released over the next month-plus, and the hardest part about including an Author & Punisher track is not rambling incoherently for 20 minutes about how great the rest of the record from which it comes is. I suppose there will be time for such things.

For now, I thank you for listening as always if you do and I’m grateful you see these words either way.

The Obelisk Show airs 5PM Eastern today on the Gimme app or at: http://gimmemetal.com.

Full playlist:

The Obelisk Show – 01.21.22

The Obelisk Show on Gimme Metal airs every Friday 5PM Eastern, with replays Sunday at 7PM Eastern. Next new episode is Feb. 4 (subject to change). Thanks for listening if you do.

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Last episode, I did comfort songs the whole way through, new stuff and old, and at the risk of saying something remotely nice about myself, I thought it was the best show I’ve ever done. This time, of course, something completely different.

Yeah, the theme is still affected by the COVID-19 pandemic — how could it not be? — but it’s basically me reminding myself that when times are hard, harder, harder than that, still harder, okay-hardest-my-head’s-gonna-friggin’-explode-make-it-stop-make-it-stop, there’s still new music and new music is still awesome.

So here we are. Brand new tracks from Curse the Son, Vine Weevil, Ten Foot Wizard (who emailed me as I was putting the playlist together, as though to emphasize the point), Witchkiss, Dopelord, Nighthawk & Heavy Temple, The Mountain King, High Priestess, Wight, Marmalade Knives, Kanaan, Frozen Planet….1969 and The Swell Fellas. Some of this has been streamed here, some of it hasn’t, but it’s all new and it’s all excellent and I found that this week, at just this particular moment in time, that’s what I needed. It’s that simple, and I hope you can relate.

Thanks for listening if you do. I hope you enjoy. Or even if you just look at the list and find something new to dig on, I hope you enjoy that too. Thanks.

The Obelisk Show airs 5PM Eastern today on the Gimme app or at http://gimmeradio.com

Full playlist:

The Obelisk Show – 04.17.20

The Obelisk Show on Gimme Radio airs every Friday 5PM Eastern, with replays Sunday at 7PM Eastern. Next new episode is May 1 (subject to change). Thanks for listening if you do.

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Jammers gotta jam, and though they’re less than a year removed from their sixth full-length, 2018’s The Heavy Medicinal Grand Exposition (review here), clearly it was time for Frozen Planet….1969 to get down to business on the seventh. Released like that album through Headspin Records on vinyl and Pepper Shaker Records on jewel-case CD, Meltdown on the Horizon compiles four tracks from a session helmed by drummer Frank Attard in the band’s native Canberra, Australia, as he, bassist Lachlan Paine and guitarist Paul Attard set themselves to a four-track/54-minute stretch of cosmic meandering, rife with effects and an improvisational energy that affects even the most spaced-out of moments, like the midsection of 22-minute opener and longest inclusion (immediate points) “Rollback,” as the band depart the initial solo-topped groove and funky display for more atmospheric turns before gradually making their way back with the guitar in the lead. It’s not a minor journey and it’s not intended to be, but the last album was arranged as one long, 39-minute track and a six-minute reprise, so neither is it the farthest Frozen Planet….1969 have gone down that road.

More importantly, it harnesses a gorgeous, organic kind of chaos, with a hypnotic spread of float above a molten river of groove, all natural and emblematic of a sincere will to explore musically, the band dug into the joy of their own creation, starting off in medias res as though we, the audience, join their journey already in progress, which of course we do. And long before they come around to the drums picking up in “Rollback” as the song heads into its 17th minute and winding final realization en route to “Bellhop Shindig” (8:11), “Dandy Chai” (6:41) and “Sunset Variations” (17:01), the trio have locked in the essential character that will define Meltdown on the Horizon in the song’s psychedelic persona, a heavy acid rock spirit emerging that continues into “Bellhop Shindig,” which is no less jazzy than the title might indicate, as Paine‘s bass holds together the flow of drums and guitar surrounding, bridging the gap that’s essential in crafting the spaciousness of the record on the whole. Cool vibe? Yeah, cool vibe. They’ve got it locked down.

When it comes to this kind of jam-based heavy psychedelic instrumentalism, I’m usually a proponent of a conscious listen. That is, in the face of trippy sonics and go-anywhere adventuring, I’ll mostly argue in favor of keeping your wits about you and paying attention to what the band are doing in order to most enjoy it. You know, listening to a record by listening to it. Not a particularly deep concept. And I’m not about to tell you not to give Meltdown on the Horizon the consideration it deserves. I will say though that there’s also a value to engaging with the ultra-chill moments of “Sunset Variations” or “Dandy Chai” on that existential level as well — just sharing the same headspace. This is particularly true of the penultimate cut, which is the shortest of the four as noted above, since its structure seems to kind of come apart about two minutes before it’s done and leave Paul in the position of weaving out pulled guitar notes on an intertwining delay, hypnotic and minimal compared to some of the other stretches on the record, but again, a wholly organic moment.

And one that’s well worth experiencing consciously, but also one that’s a whole lot of fun to just kind of go with. Seven albums deep, Frozen Planet….1969 have more than earned the benefit of the doubt, I think, and even as they lose track of where they’re heading on “Dandy Chai,” including that is purposeful. It’s not just about some “well, we’ll put in a missed note to sound natural” kind of thing, and it’s not that they don’t care. It’s the risk you run in doing improv, and the way in which you roll with it. Shit, Frozen Planet….1969 are giving life lessons, never mind jamming out. They’re telling you how to read their work even as they’re performing it. Just go with it. How could you not want to do that, especially when they pull it off so effectively moving into the subdued start of “Sunset Variations?”

But just to be clear: I’m not saying Meltdown on the Horizon is background music. It’s not. “Bellhop Shindig” is way too busy being funky cosmic boogie to be relegated to the background of anything, and while “Rollback” is hypnotic, it never loses its sense of purpose. What I’m saying is that Frozen Planet….1969‘s explorations hold up to multiple kinds of listens. You can sit and analyze every turn they make throughout “Rollback” and “Sunset Variations,” catch the moment where “Dandy Chai” begins to kind of pull itself apart, or get down with “Bellshop Shindig” note for airy note. I’m not arguing against that. Do it. But the next time you put it on, be aware that Meltdown on the Horizon can hold its own and hold attention without that kind of direct engagement.

It’s a strong enough performance on the part of the band to carry the audience through from one end to the other, and even when there’s a bump in that path, they’re experienced enough to ride it out and go where it takes them. This is the sign, ultimately, of a band who have mastered their approach — at least as much as one can when so much of that approach is improv — and who are not only in control of what they do, but are strong enough to cede that control when it suits the work they’re doing. That ability makes Meltdown on the Horizon an all the more exciting listen, no matter how one engages with it, and it shows both the depth of the chemistry between the Attards and Paine, and the continued daring they bring to their output and their off-the-cuff composition style. The former and the latter alike serve them well here, and their raw creativity earns every single kind of listen it will get.

Frozen Planet….1969, Meltdown on the Horizon (2019)

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Pepper Shaker Records on Bandcamp

HeadSpin Records website

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Doing something different this time. In the past, I’ve posted playlists after the show airs, as recaps. This time, it’s before, in case, you know, you actually want to listen to the thing.

Do so at 1PM Eastern here: http://gimmeradio.com.

It’s a good show, and kind of back to normal as regards general methodology. A lot of new music, which makes me happy, and some Acrimony for a classic track, which I feel like I may have done before but seemed relevant to me anyway for reasons that will become clear over the next however long — ooh, intrigue! — and the title-tracks from new High on Fire and Mars Red Sky EPs. Had to get that High on Fire in there in light of Des leaving the band. Still really curious to see what they’re like without him.

A lot of this stuff has been covered around here lately — Horseburner, Pale Grey Lore, Monarch, Wolf Blood, The Ivory Elephant, Dead Feathers — but there’s more that I haven’t yet had the chance to properly write about in bands like Glacier, Sibyl, the new Book of Wyrms and Merlin releases, etc., so I think it’s a cool balance of stuff overall, and the tracks rule. And if you listen to the show, I kind of nerd out a bit about the new Mars Red Sky record, which is always enjoyable. For me, mostly, I suspect. But still.

Fun show. Glad I made it, and it’s the 20th one, which is a genuine surprise. If I was Gimme, I would’ve shitcanned me long ago.

Anyway, check it out if you can, and thanks.

Here’s the full playlist:

The Obelisk Show – 08.02.19

The Obelisk Show on Gimme Radio airs every other Friday at 1PM Eastern, with replays every Sunday at 7PM Eastern. Next show is Aug. 16. Thanks for listening if you do.

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[Click play above to stream Frozen Planet….1969’s The Heavy Medicinal Grand Exposition in its entirety. Album is out Nov. 1 on Pepper Shaker Records and HeadSpin Records.]

Step right up, don’t be shy. One has to wonder when it comes to the sixth — count ’em, six — full-length outing from ellipse-inclusive Sydney/Canberra psychedelic improv specialists Frozen Planet….1969 as to which came first, the concept or the execution. That is, The Heavy Medicinal Grand Exposition is a somewhat weighty title, and obviously that’s on purpose as the classic power trio of guitarist Paul Attard, bassist Lachlan Paine and drummer Frank Attard, being entirely instrumental, lean on the cartoon artwork and the liner notes of the CD and LP — released by Pepper Shaker and HeadSpin Records, respectively — to tell the story. That’s not to say the record itself, which is comprised of one 39-minute title-track broken down into six subtitled parts and a six-minute follow-up called “Encore: A Herbal Miracle,” isn’t plenty malleable.

Indeed, in sound, open structure and form, Frozen Planet….1969 jam and jam and jam and jam their way into the greater reaches of Far Out, a naturalist production helmed by Frank keeping some human presence in mind behind all the willful instrumental meandering that, all things considered, isn’t nearly as effects-baked as it could be, even in the latest stretch of the “The Heavy Medicinal Grand Exposition” itself. But they go where they want to go, and of course, the live feel of the recording is one of its most essential facets. For something that’s at least in some part made up on the spot, that’s bound to be the case, which leads back to the initial question of which came first, the story or the jam.

Does it really matter to the listening experience? I suppose not. It’s possible to put on “The Heavy Medicinal Grand Exposition” without engaging Doctor Berner or reading in the liner notes about his traveling show selling the miracle herbal elixir to relieve pain and ward off evil, strengthen body and mind, and so on. But it’s not nearly as much fun, and Frozen Planet….1969 sound well like they’re enjoying the process of creating the album on the spot. Shouldn’t the listener endeavor to do the same with the listening experience?

Thus we meet the Swordsman, the Juggler, Sundae, Doctor Berner himself and the rest in the title-track. Conveniently, they’ve split the 39-minute piece up into subsections. On the vinyl it all plays together naturally, so whether one thinks of it as one or six different cuts is moot. On the CD and digital versions, though, we see the band purposefully linking the pieces together as the single jam that they are. The list of subsections reads accordingly:

The Heavy Medicinal Grand Exposition:
I. Oddball Sundae (00:00-05:15)
II. The Juggler (05:16-10:08)
III. Introducing… Oxandra Lanceolata (10:09-16:26)
IV. The Talking Juice (16:27-27:31)
V. Swords for Hire (27:32-31:47)
VI. Never Should Have Left Town with a Whistling Monkey by My Side (31:48-39:25)

There’s a lot of information packed into those subtitles. ‘The Talking Juice’ refers to the potion itself. ‘Swords for Hire’ has a companion Swordsman as seen in an executioner’s hood on the front cover standing next to Oxandra Lanceolata, also on the cover holding — for some reason — a bonsai tree. The art is meant to evoke a comic book sensibility — we see Doctor Berner in the top left corner where the comic company logo and issue price might otherwise be — and that tends to give the whole affair a lighthearted feel suited to the music itself, which is laid back even at its most active points, the title-track getting funky in ‘The Juggler’ or jamming into a classic fuzz solo in ‘The Talking Juice’ after the “hubba hubba” of pulled notes and spaced-out guitar echoes in “Introducing… Oxandra Lanceolata.” Part of the fun of engaging with The Heavy Medicinal Grand Exposition becomes reading these things into it.

And yeah, if they had elected to do a futuristic sci-fi theme instead of an old traveling medicine show, it would probably be just as easy to hear a cosmic pastiche in the spacey wanderings that take hold in ‘The Talking Juice’ and the lonely reach of feedback in ‘Never Should Have Left Town with a Whistling Monkey by My Side,’ the bass and drums holding the jam together beneath the floating guitar overhead, but the point is they didn’t. The Attards and Paine created the characters and the theme they wanted to use and set about bringing that concept to life as a full experience of the album. That’s exactly why The Heavy Medicinal Grand Exposition works as well as it does. It’s a complete, multi-level realization of its central idea.

So which came first, the music or the theme? Hell if I know. What’s more important is that the two work side by side to give a whole impression through both the title-track and the complementary “Encore: A Herbal Miracle” that wants nothing either in narrative presentation or actual sonic execution. They finish the second jam with jazzy punches of guitar, bass and drums, odd-time strumming and kick cutting off suddenly to bring the record to its end, and by so doing, they reinforce the notion of The Heavy Medicinal Grand Exposition as a work of improv. It’s there while it’s there and then it’s over. There’s no real grand finale to it. The jam just concludes and then, presumably, it’ll be on to the next one.

Fair enough. The Heavy Medicinal Grand Exposition is Frozen Planet….1969‘s sixth LP since 2012, directly following 2017’s From the Centre of a Parallel Universe (review here) and Electric Smokehouse (review here), so they’re used to a quick turnaround. Whenever their next offering surfaces, the fact that they’ve put so much into the conceptual foundation of this one can only help them as they move forward, and whether they work with another specific plotline or not, the mere fact that The Heavy Medicinal Grand Exposition was approached with a sense of storytelling is bound to make the listening experience that much richer. It certainly does here.

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Pepper Shaker Records on Thee Facebooks

Pepper Shaker Records on Bandcamp

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