SATORI

A legendary Japanese outfit with a penchant for Black Sabbath, King Crimson and Jimi Hendrix, the Flower Travellin' Band were standard-bearers for the exciting rock scene that emerged out of Japan during the early-seventies and one of the ultimate cult groups. They issued just four albums during their rather brief musical career, all between 1970 and 1973, though much of their reputation stems from 1971's bruisingly doomy 'Satori', an album seen by many as the high watermark of Japan's psychedelic rock scene. Made up of five interlocking parts, 'Satori' charts a raw and powerful course through the group's grazing mixture of chundering proto-metal guitars, warbling vocal assaults and ethnic percussion licks, an almost apocalyptic sense of foreboding drenching every single chord. At it's best, it's a truy mesmerising experience, the group darting between heavy and light sonic shades with an almost punk sense of reckless abandon, though occasional repetitive longeurs - some of the overlong guitar solo's for example - do slightly diminish the overall effect. That said, its rare to find an album that mixes power and beauty with such wild-eyed gusto, matching the likes of The Stooges, Hendrix and Sabbath for pure, single-minded bluster. Essentially one long piece of music, 'Satori' may well appeal to those with a fondness for the heavier things in life, but conversely, may also put off fans of more melodic forms of rock. However, if it's a blazing, blues-tinged trip to the outer reaches of wigged-out psychedelia you're after then look no further than 'Satori'. Jagged and metallic, at times utterly engrossing, and about as subtle as a crazed psychopathic bull having a massive epileptic fit in an over-crowded fine china shop, this is music of astonishing power and aggression. You have been warned. STEFAN TURNER, STOKE NEWINGTON, 2014