Sic Alps – A Long Way Around to a Shortcut 2xLP (Drag City) / “L Mansion” b/w “Superlungs My Supergirl” 7” (Slumberland)
This one should send my Tumblarity back up into the low double digits … I still wait to find out if Sic Alps can deliver on their promise, one which is held by thousands as Thee Reel Deel Haight-Ashbury Time Machine and Secret Guardians of the Omniverse, and still can’t determine if their promise is entirely based on novelty or if they will ever coalesce into something a bit more tenable. Unlike most sic psych-o-phants, I couldn’t get away from their full-lengths quickly enough (some say there were songs in there, even!) but still had a good ear and fond memories towards the early EPs, and their general message of peace-n-luv goodwill. I know invention is hard, and I don’t expect it from everyone, even those as lauded and capable as these guys. It just may be that I don’t understand California. I never lived there, and the time I spent there a decade ago (in the company of a shoplifter with a borderline personality, unreasonable/stressed folks in Downey, members of the Locust, the skin-melting farts of Kent McClard and a sweet brodude from Uphill Battle, among others) didn’t convince me too hard. I would love to drop out and live by some tidal pool in Santa Barbara. Maybe one of you can show me the way. A Long Way Around was a good enough idea for sure, if only to get it off CD and to put an exact repro of that ridiculously limited Descriptions of the Harbor 12” back in print (remember it, for it is the one that truly kicked of the bidding war for under-quantity vinyl, and those who missed out went on to gladly pay $40+ for records available from artists and labels at list price, months before the market corrected itself). Even that’s kind of a bummer now, as listening to the majestic scatter of its nine B-sides only brings to mind the fact that Thee Oh Sees are a band with a fan base and sticky fingers, Creeque Alley flowing falsely from J. Dwyer’s spread buttcheeks. The second L-pee, covering tapes, singles and tour offerings, fares much better, and it’s nice to have the graceful waste of “Strawberry Guillotine” and “Semi Streets” in one place. The duo has since been filled out with third member Ty Segall (a guy who really needs to take a fucking rest; guess he wasn’t in enough bands, or maybe finished all six albums he was fittin’ to release this year). The new stuff really puts the “slum” in Slumberland, bending nylon strings and playing cute on their original, and misinterpreting Terry Reid’s initial/righteous misinterpretation of Donovan on the flip. When Sic Alps are on, I have no beef, but I also know where we are, and where this all came from – dead center of the second term in the Bush administration, when all the fight was sapped out of us for good. I can’t help but think our lowered expectations are a direct result of this unfortunate time for culture and the arts, and hastened the distance between current generations. We can’t really trust each other anymore – why bother sharing when somebody’s just gonna take it from you anyway? Both are limited in some such way, likely because of that very same logic. Anyway, one of these is pretty good and nice-to-have, but all the time you spend in fake 1966 means less life you can dedicate to listening to Jellyfish over and over. Your call. (http://www.dragcity.com) (http://www.slumberlandrecords.com)
(Doug Mosurock)
