Chilliwack being a band straight outa Chilliwack, BC, which also happened to be the name of not just their debut album, but also its sprawling double vinyl 1971 follow up, the second half of which spaces out in all manner of strange ways, the first half of which is not afraid to rock, with Eat being the sort of nugget that would still sound strong in pretty much any garage, the world over.
Dali’s Car (the project) may have looked brilliant on paper. Take ex-Bauhaus lead singer Peter Murphy, put him in a room with Mick Karn, instrumental genius from recently disbanded Japan – see what happens. What happened was an album called The Waking Hour which didn’t quite add up, not for forty odd minutes. But Dali’s Car (the song ) — that was memorably odd, and nutritious.
We’ll give this one to Lester Bangs, because without his review, Philip Random would never have been on the lookout for a copy of Live at the Paramount, which he found at yard sale, 1980s sometime. Cost him at least a dollar. “The Guess Who have absolutely no taste at all, they don’t even mind embarrassing everybody in the audience, they’re real punks without ever working too hard at it […] In case you wondered about the drug commercial, it’s in a song called Truckin Off Across The Sky, the main character of which is the Grim Reaper. There he is … grinning, outstretched arms holding bags of you-know-what. Positively the best drug song of 1972. And this may well be the best live album. F*** all them old dudes wearing their hip tastes on their sleeves: get this and play it loud and be first on your block to become a public nuisance.”
“Jarvis Street Revue stumbled out of Thunder Bay, Ontario in the late 1960s, not that many noticed. I certainly didn’t. But a song as long and weird and serious as the title track of their only album Mr. Oil Man was always going to find me, I figure. The environment is f***ed and The Man is to blame. Same as it ever was, and here we all still are. I don’t know if that’s cause for hope or despair. Probably a little of both.” (Philip Random)
“I’m not clear on who Lieutenant Pigeon was or whether he (or they?) ever even released another record. Because Mouldy Old Dough was more than enough for posterity, proving a monster hit in Britain, and yes, it’s all the evidence one requires to posit that there really was once a time (call it 1972) when lead flute and a growling vocal were all anyone needed to achieve pop glory. If the song’s actually about anything, it may be that tendency in medieval times for folks to go mad after eating bread baked from moldy dough, research into which would eventually give us LSD. This is true.” (Philip Random)
In 10cc‘s hands, pop was alive and rather brilliantly insane in 1976. Or whatever you call the kind of music they were messing around with on the album How Dare You? in general, the song I Wanna Rule The World in particular – spending big money on studio time and album art. “Art for art’s sake, money for god’s sake,” as one of the other songs on the album put it.
Randophonic 
