ALBUM HIGHLIGHTS – “Brand New World”, “12 Strings and Tambourines”, “Adams Street”, “Temple of Madness”
It’s rare to find these days. A band (or maybe supergroup, in this case) that defies all genre boundaries and just…creates. Alfie Agnew (Adolescents, D.I.) and Sean Elliott (D.I., Mind Over Four) are familiar names from Orange County’s early 80s hardcore and psych-punk scenes, but first teamed up as a multi-instrumental duo in 2014 (Agnew is actually a maths professor for Cal State Fullerton by day, presumably rendering Elliott the “madman”).
A year into this partnership, whilst playing in Southern California, who should they spot watching them in the crowd? None other than Rat Scabies (The Damned, the Sinclairs, the Mutants, One Thousand Motels). Not missing their chance, the “opportunistic bastards” – as Rat affectionately refers to them – quickly snatched him up and later, via Facebook, drafted in bass ace Paul Gray (the Damned, Eddie and the Hot Rods, UFO) to secure one of punk’s trustiest rhythm sections of all time. The Cali pair were both fans of the first Damned album, but it was The Black Album that really cemented their affinity with the band, thanks to its longer, diverse experimental pieces. Agnew describes working with Scabies and Gray as “effortless and high quality” through not only their musical ability but their interpretation of material.
With music running in his family (and brothers Rikk and Frank also Adolescents alum) Agnew grew up listening to anything between the Beatles, Hendrix, Pink Floyd, the Kinks and Deep Purple, amongst prog and jazz – before the 80s saw him plunge into the world of Californian hardcore. But, despite their punk-rock beginnings, neither Elliott nor Agnew felt handcuffed to the genre and always had background cover bands and side projects.
Sixth album Dreamworld resembles the Beatles’ Revolver in just as much its uninhibited approach as its cover, a work of art in itself. Though this album ambles down a much more anxiety-fueled path of paranoia, as ideas about space and future are conveyed. Usually operating from opposite sides of the Atlantic, all four did manage to get together, albeit just for one day, to record at Abbey Road Studios (rather appropriately).
Commencing with the title track, a satirical representation of the paranoid retreat away from reality and into a “Dreamworld”, or some crooked fairytale – however you choose to look at it. Elements that work well include the (brief) addition of sax and increasingly overlapped vocal drones that cleverly create a distracting white noise with all their layers.
“Mental Tape” delivers sardonic, sophisticated lounge, whilst the melodically melancholy “The Light” highlights strong, reaching vocals and addresses pivotal distressing adulthood events – graduating to a sound that could even evoke Britpop in its early stages. Self-reflective, soft piano ballad “Songs in My Head” hits all the emotive notes. Subtly effective, choir-style backing harmonies set the mood, with a dusting of gentle guitar and glimmering cymbals on top – and the muted trombone gives off a monochrome cinematic vibe, as if the main character is stepping out of an after-hours bar and onto a smoky, rain-soaked street.
One of two singles released from this album, “Tolerant World” is the most conventionally appealing. It’s up-tempo power pop, with some wonderfully weaving, melodious bass from the Rickenbacker maestro and a middle-eight switch-up in a nod to “Twist and Shout”, with escalating “ahhh”s. On a par with its catchability is a 20/20 cover, “Nuclear Boy”. Punkier roots are momentarily returned to, with definite Californian flavour – courtesy of lead guitar. Though Scabies’ punchier fills and post-chorus tom sweeps are what you end up most invested in. You might think that this doesn’t sound like it belongs here, but as the rhythm section continues amid choppy guitar shards below, the bridge becomes floatier with added piano, ensuring we stay rooted in Dreamworld – without it feeling forced.
Now for the standouts. “Brand New World” is jaunty hypno-pop theatre – Supertramp-style. It’s demonstrated in a kitsch, almost nursery-rhyme style, but tells a sci-fi story of aliens saving a dying planet by building a new one with ultra-advanced technology that still manages to not get it quite right (“Polkadot trees / Blue tangerines / Say good morning to the brand new world”). Of course, “aliens”, here, could be used as a metaphor for other current themes… AI anyone? With an orchestral fanfare of twangy guitar, repetitive piano, fluttering synth keys and trumpets – contrasted by more sturdy drums from Mr. Scabies – it all feels very Sgt. Pepper.
The album sees Agnew and Elliott trade off lead vocals, guitars and keyboards – but second single (and arguably strongest track) “12 Strings and Tambourines” very much belongs to the latter. Channelling “Tomorrow Never Knows” in its heavy rhythmic grooves and the slightly hazy line “Put the tape machine in reverse and play the lead” – commencing a reversed warped solo, it’s a piece that feels mind-expanding. There’s reference to the moon-landing as a future event and the video is laden with clips of all-star 60s pop-rock groups playing. One of the most interesting tracks, beneath the even-tempered, atmospheric groove there’s an urgent feel that you can’t quite get to the bottom of.
“Adams Street” is Agnew’s ode to his upbringing in Fullerton, CA – exploring the simpler, happy moments and naivete of youth. Impassioned vocals, once again, hit quite a range – almost Garfunkel territory – and an overall bigger sound owes to the twin guitar layering and crashing yet controlled, industrial drums. Paul Gray still has space to weave between, which is a treat for all to hear. Offering another dimension, a spidery, scaling guitar solo and crunching midsection disperses into cascading, watery distortion – moving closer to 60s psychedelia again.
Saving the best ‘til last, “Temple of Madness” is a brilliantly enjoyable psych-prog journey characterised by a filthy riff – like Blue Öyster Cult’s “Godzilla” blended with the big, grungey guitar on anything Soundgarden. Vocals are punk flavoured yet still soulful, sharing the floor with organ and more angular guitar that graduates into a stilted, morse-code pattern. Drums then take a shuffling, procession-style lead that, with soaring electric guitar, flow into a midsection rendition of Maurice Ravel’s “Boléro”, before abandoning the classical to return to their garage-rock origins. Another improvised solo, plus hallucinogenic sounds and deep chimes echoing the elements, play us out to an abrupt stop. Madness or not, this temple is where everyone should want to end up.
“Dreamworld” reprises for a short but continually plodding rhythm. It rounds this record off perfectly and fades out, with the trippy paranoia coming full circle on a perpetual cycle.
Chiefly a studio band, there are no plans to tour this album – due to varying locations and Scabies and Gray’s 50th Anniversary shows with the Damned – but it doesn’t really matter. This material is supposed to simply exist as one flowing cohesive piece, rather than a bunch of singles or a live set, and serves as yet another fascinating insight into the inner workings of Agnew and Elliott.
