The early- to mid- ’90s can fondly be recognized as a “sounds like” era of band-signings, and few labels were as guilty of this peculiar record industry phenom as the Atlantic/WEA family, and their various imprints (Interscope, Atco, etc). Although this practice had always existed, the 1990’s particular surge in music-product profits from the grunge/alternative upheaval spawned a fascinating assortment of clone bands.
First up is Psychefunkapus, a racially-diverse ensemble
of “hang-loose” types
whose mission was
delivering good vibes
to all who would listen. I regard myself as one
of that priveledged few.
The CD was launched with the promotional tagline that it was sure to appeal to fans of the Red Hot Chili Peppers (who I’d never really been awed by) and Faith No More (who weren’t particularly funky, to my ears). Nevertheless, this-straight-
to-the-bargain bin self-titled debut is a staple in the Truly Heartfelt Productions library, and their 2nd and final (?) disc, entitled Skin, delivers a still more generous serving of said good vibes. Shall I also mention that their drummer appears in the booklet as named Mooshi Moo Moo? Please enjoy the following definitive hits and then buy the CDs (for mere pennies) at Amazon:
We Are the Young from Psychefunkapus
Surfin on Jupiter from Skin
Around the same time, those ineffable goons at Interscope “scoped out” Love On Ice, who were precariously positioned as a Janes Addiction-esque alt-rock act. Rick Parashar (who would also produce Pearl Jam’s debut) lends vibrant sonic character, and their brief career surely wasn’t hurt by a non-album track
“Showdown” on the soundtrack for Bill and Ted’s Bogus Journey.
Yet, in the end, this great bargain bin album is an enduring example of how visionary rock slipped through the cracks when trendy angst and offputting mewl (er..Jane’s Addiction) was replaced by irreverence (see band photo) . Love On Ice has a sweet, positive, and playful ambience that indulges not just my nostalgia, but also continues a bargain bin lineage of unfettered individuality. Enjoy these, then buy.
Don’t Leave Me
Lastly, I give you Lucy Brown — whose novel Schultz-ian moniker
betrays a rather solemn and brooding heavy soul album. Bad Brains and Living Colour were band names dropped to promote this hard rockin’ disc, and I seem to recall them listed among more obscure acts of similar ilk (24-7 Spyz, Sinister Dane, Follow For Now, Skunk Anansie) in CD booklet thanks lists. They had a distinctly unfussy and mature tone about them. This one was a bargain bin title from day one, and unfortunately a classy debut forgotten in time. Sadly, reports are that vocalist Gene Hawkins has passed on. Thanks for touching our lives before you left, Gene. Listen to these and then get it for cheap.
Comments on this entry are closed.