SARCELLES LOCHERES

Starting off with a man making his way to the toilet having a nice little wee, a certain style emerges pretty quickly with this band...

More than once I was reminded of early Frank Zappa - both humour-wise but also in the peculiar fusion that is scattered all through this little rascal of an album. Apart from the second cut Caka Slow / Vertebrate Twist (whatever that means) most of this album consists of small ditties akin to the likes you'd find on The Who's Sell Out - yet infinitely more Zappaesque in nature. These twaddle about somewhere between the feel of the early Mothers to some wonderfully executed psych mantraing, which often steams up like rising sauce bearnaise - much credited to the fantastic see sawing guitar work.

Although short lived Red Noise deserve to be remembered for what they were, which was a rebellious musical unit that much in the spirit of the times - played at the University of Sorbonne, back when make love not war turned into flip 'em the bloody bird and occupy the land, if they don't get it and aren't attuned in to the great big socialistic movement. There's a good portion of theatrics from the times that soak through in this band - and you literally feel transported back on those walls protesting, shouting - smoking till your knees grow backwards, whenever this record starts mumbling from your speakers...

Some tracks here have that late 60s momentum harking back to the feel of The Pretty Things - others take their inspiration from back-alley cool jazz that waft on by you like a Parisiènne black cat - straight out of that old Van Gogh painting. The mixture is fun, charming and mad like a rhubarb.

Then we get to the last cut, and all hell breaks loose! The bubbling unbridled and unchecked rage lurking just beneath the surface suddenly decides that it can no longer be held back. It erupts into a flaming bonfire of lunacy - and we get exploding lava streams of free jazz and fiery guitar rivers that egg each other on like a poisonous married couple that feed off anger and angst - funnelling all of the hurt and madness - all of that goo into one huge catapulting hail Mary - GO WIDE Honey!!!

Brute drumming with emphasis on the bass drum, booming growling walking bass, confused flute flutters, disorientated organs that creep up the walls like big black centipedes of sound and the tormented presence of the guitar that rambles along like an anti-hero on amphetamine and coffee.

What's not to like? 3.5 stars and recommended to people with yellow socks.

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