By 1969, psychedelics began to lose ground, succumbing to the onslaught of heavy rock and heavy drugs. Tim Leary, the main prophet and consumer of acid, is running for governor of California with Irish zeal and the slogan “come on, let’s have a party together”, throwing down the gauntlet to former actor Reagan. Miles Davis, no stranger to both drugs, records one of the last great albums of the decade, Bitches Brew, pouring the trumpet poison of the first jazz rock into the ears of neophytes.
Dave Alvin, born on November 11, 1955, is almost fourteen, but still thirteen. With their older brother Phil, they shout and tinkle old as the world (perhaps the parents sketched the first drawings of the new Alvin to “That’s All Right, Mama”), rock’n’roll and blues standards, in order to assemble The Blasters, a truly iconic rockabilly band, ten years later. Phil still sings in it, but Dave, a virtuoso guitarist by 1986, embarks on a mysterious voyage, called a “solo career” by the layman.
A connoisseur of the root music of the American South, in 2000 he received a Grammy for the album “Public Domain: Songs From The Wild Land”; a master of literature, publishes two books of his own poetry. In 2011, he released the most powerful album “Eleven Eleven”, where every three-minute song is a life-long story, whether it’s the life of Johnny Ace or Joaquin Murieta. But something is scratching at the dark corner of Dave’s mind, some strange mottled animal that settled there back in the sixties, born from drops of “Bitch’s Brew” under the smirk of the California sun…
Dave Alvin, who has eaten several country, blues and rockabilly coyotes, decides to record an album of psychedelic music in the same manner as Miles Davis: no rehearsals, just improvisation on a given theme, we’ll see what happens. For this non-trivial purpose, an orchestra of notorious musicians, The Third Mind, is being created, then by name, since some of the names sound like they were invented by Mr. Leary’s hallucination: Viktor Krumennacher (that’s what Mary Shelley should have called the scientist from her book) – bass, voice; David Immergluck (comments are superfluous) – guitar, keys, vocals; Michael Jerome (“Bring it to Jerome”) – drums; Dave Alvin himself – guitar, vocals. A special guest is Jessie Sykes (according to some musicologist, “Sandy Danny hugging Grace Slick”), a great folk singer. The album was released in early 2020 on Yep Roc Records. Buckle up and jump in, it’s going to be a hell of a ride.
The listener’s inner eye opens to the strange landscapes of Journey In Satchidananda, compositions by Alice Coltrane, John’s wife, also known to the circle of initiates as Turiyasangitananda (Sanskrit, Karl!), a rare jazz harpist. Sachchidananda is an unknown thing from Hinduism, being, consciousness and bliss all rolled into one (Wikipedia, Clara!). Contrary to the name, it’s not faceless new age, but tightly rolled and aromatic jazz-rock with good swing drums and synthesizers from the planet Vaikuntha. Guitar passages make you confuse Indians with Indians. The original was released the same year as Bitches Brew. The TTM version makes the mind spin steadily, not letting you get bored, rocking the cerebellum on sound waves.
The Dolphins is a 1966 song by Fred Neal. Dave’s baritone voice sets off Jesse’s otherworldly beautiful voice. A contemplative ballad, gentle and fantastic, devoid of Nile pomp. Well, you’ll get a grand mercy for the fish.
Claudia Cardinale is dedicated to Claudia Cardinale, known not only for the film “The Red Tent” by Mikhail Kalatozov (landmark 1969), but also for the spaghetti western “Once upon a Time in the Wild West” by Sergio Leone. A macaroni guitar paints the image of a cowboy of Baltic Tatar origin playing an Italian harmonica on the plains of Andalusia. The music is disturbingly poignant, and occasionally a Morricone-esque pathos creeps in. The only original thing on the album. And the most concise.
Neither Robert Plant, nor the Grateful Dead, nor even Einsturzende Neubauten could resist the charm of Morning Dew Bonnie Dobson. A gentle sixties folk song that invites you to walk through an emerald meadow to a mist-covered stream. Jessie Sykes’ singing is ephemeral, like a dewdrop on a blade of grass. Fascinatingly. You don’t notice how nine minutes pass. And eighteen seconds. And how the musicians smoothly enter the peak of the rising crescendo.
Mike Bloomfield’s East/West is here, an epic sixteen-minute canvas that takes the real Toltec to all the Don Juans and brings him back slightly peyotized. After making this journey, the warrior will certainly meet a desert wolf with the voice of Johnny Cash. The clear groove of the rhythm section and the slightly Santanic (a la Carlos. Santana who) guitar phrasing will add a dancing impetuosity to the step. An invited Jack Rudy blows into the accordion.
Reverberation belongs to the authorship of garage psychedelic classics The 13th Floor Elevators, wild Texas junkies, who were almost joined by Janis Joplin. If she hadn’t turned into a hippie Frisco, her life and career would have been much brighter. Although, perhaps, even shorter… In short, a powerful, aggressive, impetuous number, it was not for nothing that Rocky Erickson, who wrote it, was treated for schizophrenia and arrested for transporting and consuming illegal substances (for the first time in 1969). The Third Mind accurately conveys the dorkily romantic uncompromising era in the studio.
Throughout the album, the musicians’ work feels like a single multi-armed organism with dexterous fingers and a subtle sense of harmony. The lightness and freedom with which all six compositions are performed is intoxicating. Another Real Dave Alvin Album. And his chipmunks. Open the doors of perception wider, let the Music enter: https://davealvin .bandcamp.com/
PS: The answer to the name “The Third Mind” should be sought in the writings of the Jesuit Pierre Teilhard De Chardin, who died in 1955. But don’t even try without a liter of mezcal.
