Side 1
01. The cheeping of the robot bees (1:17)
02. Dream string (2:17)
03. God and The Dave Clark 5 (5:03)
04. The overseer on the indigo farm (1:36)
05. The hygrometer song (:28)
06. And your dog can sing (3:32)
07. Raymond Chandler (4:39)
08. (They must have made it with their) Hats (2:13)
Side 2
09. I am a hen (Lucinda Lambton) (1:41)
10. Irreversible syntax errors (3:48)
11. The deathbed song (2:00)
12. Light transforms the Peugeot dealers (1:25)
13. Pigs and eagles (3:00)
14. Double 'O' gauge dogs (2:41)
15. The burning fascia (4:02)
16. The hapless criminal (2:10)
17. Love is for the astronauts (3:20)
Side 3
18. Josephine and Tchaikovsky (1:22)
19. He's had his bears (3:22)
20. The last great dogfight (1:58)
21. Totally unacceptable (full of holes) (2:40)
22. Spew forth frogs (3:01)
23. Er (4:01)
24. Life's not like that really (Yukio's dream #3) (3:14)
Side 4
25. Oh dear, what shall we do about the Christians (Harold Melvin II: the heretic) (2:58)
26. Climb aboard the groove tractor (pencils) (7:14)
27. The fading memory of Mr Rose (1:47)
28. Vulture culture ()
29. A big dog ()
30. The handkerchief man's last bonfire ()
Total Time= (76:50)
Terry Burrows: Vocals; keyboards; saxophone; acoustic guitar; shawm; recorder
Cox Box: Wibbley noises; Regurgitations
Martin Howells: Bass guitar; acoustic bass and backing vocals
Alan Jenkins: Electric guitar and backing vocals
Jane Laing: Backing vocals and translations
Geraldine Minou-Sullivan: drums and percussion
R Stevie Moore: Tapes
Jonathan Staines: Ukelele and backing vocals
The Acton Horns: Fiona Coltrane; Norman Dolphy; Alf Fitzgerald
The Actonian Schonberg Quintet: Annette Askey; James Hay; Frances Howerd; Ernest Miller
Recorded at Surgeon's Lab Studios, LondonOrchestral and brass arrangements by Yukio Yung
All tracks published by JUNG AT HEART or OCTAGONAL RABBIT MUSIC
EGG PLANT RECORDS, 8 Denis Close, Leicester, LE3 8DQ, England
An ORGONE COMPANY HAMSTER/CORDELIA co-productionManufactured in the UK
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CD - Four Eggs
01 The cheeping of the robot bees
02 Dream string
03 God and The Dave Clark 5
04 The overseer on the indigo farm
05 The hygrometer song
06 And your dog can sing
07 Raymond Chandler
08 (They must have made it with their) Hats
09 I am a hen (Lucinda Lambton)
10 Irreversible syntax errors
11 The deathbed song
12 Light transforms the Peugeot dealers
13 Pigs and eagles
14 Double 'O' gauge dogs
15 The burning fascia
16 The hapless criminal
17 Love is for the astronauts
18 Josephine and Tchaikovsky
19 He's had his bears
20 The last great dogfight
21 Totally unacceptable (full of holes)
22 Spew forth frogs
23 Er
24 Life's not like that really (Yukio's dream #3)
25 Oh dear, what shall we do about the Christians (Harold Melvin II: the heretic)
26 Climb aboard the groove tractor (pencils)
27 The fading memory of Mr Rose
28 Vulture culture
29 A big dog
30 The handkerchief man's last bonfire
Credits:
Same as LP - well with subtle differences.
AMG REVIEW: The Chrysanthemums' second album is a two-record parody of such overblown progressive rock concept albums as Yes' Tales of Topographic Oceans and Jethro Tull's Thick as a Brick. Housed in a gold-on-black sleeve-covered front, back and spine with fake hieroglyphics, the double album comes with a lengthy sleeve note written by guitarist Alan Jenkins explaining the album's inspiration and detailing the complicated story the 27 songs purport to tell. The Pythonesque story has something to do with giant eggplants from outer space and a time-traveling World War II bi-plane. The songs, of course, are entirely unconnected, both to the concept and to each other. Ranging in length from 27 seconds to just over seven minutes, these songs are simultaneously instantly catchy and deeply strange. Jenkins and singer/keyboardist Terry Burrows have a knack for psych-influenced pop songs that wouldn't sound out of place on Carnaby Street-era Kinks and Who records, but their lyrics are a weird mix of Bonzo Dog Band-style humor, bizarre imagery, and throwaway references to pop culture figures from soul legend Harold Melvin to U.K. television personality Lucinda Lambton. The five-minute "God and the Dave Clark Five" embodies the eclectic spirit of the album in microcosm, moving from a bouncy freakbeat verse to a middle section of Krautrocky drones and chants, ending up with a Hendrix-like noise guitar solo by way of a direct quote from the Monkees' theme song. Elsewhere, "(They Must Have Made It With Their) Hats" marries a circa-1966 Beatles melody with backing vocals that substitute random three-syllable words (aubergine, Reginald, mandolin, etc.) for the expected "la-la-las," and "Light Transforms the Peugeot Dealers" mixes ukulele and sampled horns manipulated to sound like steam escaping from some huge forbidding machine. The stylistic shifts make sense as a whole, and the album is dense and melodic enough to stand up to repeated listens. Headphones are recommended to capture the subtleties of the rather muddy homemade production, however. ~Stewart Mason, All Music Guide (2001) |
A randomreview: author unknown
33 rebellions per minute
"You led a life devoid of color, except for mauve of course"
1989
Chrysanthemums, LITTLE FLECKS OF FOAM AROUND BARKING
I try to equip you, in these columns, with a long and variegated list of records to look for when you're searching the CDNow catalog or the used record store. But I do hope you understand that recommendations can't be something you just insist on having. If you see a CD that is, for example, filled with songs called "the Cheeping Of The Robot Bees" and "God and the Dave Clark Five" and "the Overseer On the Indigo Farm" and "I Am A Hen (Lucinda Lambton)" and "Irreversible Syntax Error" and "Light Transforms the Peugeot Dealers" and "Totally Unacceptable (Full Of Holes)" and "Love Is For the Astronauts" and "Oh Dear What Shall We Do About the Christians" (to choose among 27 titles), and if, for example, it _has_ 27 songs, and if, for example, it devotes its liner notes to a fully Hitchhiker's Guide To The Galaxy-worthy explanation of the "concept" linking the 27 songs, and especially if, for example, you happen to learn that the band's previous record is called IS THAT A FISH ON YOUR SHOULDER OR ARE YOU JUST HAPPY TO SEE ME?--- well I don't care if you'd heard of the album, it _is_ worth $12.
But I had to keep saying "for example" because this here Chrysanthemums album is all of that, and now you _have_ heard of it, and if you have any taste for mildly psychedelicized Britpop, oh boy do you need this. And since all the last copies have been sold, and the songwriter (Terry Burrows) refuses to let any more be made, I suppose the only decent thing for me to do is let you write to me and try to negotiate for dub copies and Xeroxed notes, even though Ira Robbins in his Trouser Press Guides (which don't mention the Chrysanthemums) doesn't offer that service. Anyway, LITTLE FLECKS, 70+ minutes of unceasing melody, calls to mind the best Beatles, if you accent their "Being For The Benefit Of Mr. Kite"/ "When I'm 64" music-hall influence. It calls to mind early Kinks and Martin Newell and Captain Sensible. It calls XTC's whimsical alter-egos The Dukes Of Stratosphear to mind and brings them tea and unfolds lounge-chairs so they'll stay there for the duration. It shows you exactly what '89-to-present Television Personalities would've sounded like if their leader Daniel Treacy hadn't been watching his life fall apart because he was too busy switching between "Yes Prime Minister", "the X-Files", and badly dubbed Portuguese versions of "Masterpiece Theater". My guess is that all of these resemblances are accidental, and that _really_ LITTLE FLECKS is the legendary lost double-album where Monty Python celebrated Spiro Agnew's resignation by remaking their (extremely) advance copy of Blur's PARKLIFE. Or so it seemed to me several listens ago. Actually it's weirder than that. My own tendency is to focus immediately on moments of pop perfection: the infatuation classic "I Am a Hen", a full match for the ebullience of Too Much Joy's "Crush Story"; or the Sesame Street bounce of "The Deathbed Song"; or the giddy-up percussiveness and amiably lunatic harmonies of "They Must Have Made It With Their Hats" and "Er"; or the call-and-response chorus of "Climb Aboard The Groove Tractor (Pencils)", where the sudden a capella-ness of the "Wilson death by zebra fury" bits only seems wrong on analysis; or the lilting "...Astronauts", where the soft, wondering solemnity of "A mode of thought prevailed in 1992/ when Nostrodamus's predictions all came true/ it's quite uncanny how that clever bugger knew/ we'd be invaded by giant hedgehog-like beings from another world/ whose internal organs looked like sets of traffic lights...." leads naturally into a chorus that is psychedelic only in the Beatles-patented, Flintstone Chewable LSD Tablet fashion. In such context, it's easy to let the less catchy songs waft by in the assumption that they are pleasant, but lesser.
Instead, every listen makes it clearer why the credits list extends to saxophone, orchestral and brass arrangements, "regurgitations", "tapes", and "ukelele". "God..." stars an impossibly perky "La! La, la-la la-la" chorus and off-kilter guitar, but breaks twice into brief 3/4 carnival bridges before a complete extended circus-spook breakdown with vocal harmonies suggesting the band Yes after a name change to Aarghaarghpleaseno.
"Irreversible..."'s melody keeps breaking into spy-movie fear notes. The reggae song "Double 'O' Gauge Dogs" breaks into a classical-piano and strings fury that the Wicked Witch Of The West could use as theme music next time she's on a Tschaikovsky kick. The piano solo on the melancholy "Last Great Dogfight" is jazz, though, and "Totally..." does a quick but effective Ray Manzarek (Doors) imitation. "The Burning Fascia" starts with beast-arising-from-the-furnace sounds (RSM's Tapes) before slipping into absurdly syncopated 7/8 cheer (with the cautionary motto "If Joan Of Arc had smelled something burning, she really ought to have worn asbestos"). Etectera. At worst, this ambition is harmless: it doesn't race out and conquer the whole disc, it doesn't even want your half. It merely aids the splendid tunefulness that's already there. The one problem with most pop music is that eventually it becomes too comprehensible and automatic: it is called Bubblegum Music on the premise that the flavor wears out one day. If there's a way to design everlasting gobstoppers, though, the Chrysanthemums' method on FLECKS was probably the one to try.