If Los Tentakills don't play, riot! - IN SEARCH OF SPACE #167

Put down your phone, switch off the TV, hammer a bone through your nose and do the dance of the eight arms; or: assume the lotus position and imagine you are drifting into the desert; or: sell the house! Sell the kids! I’m never coming home back. Go out, find a shop, buy a beer and tool the streets swigging lazily until some basement jive drifting up at you through a darkened stairwell inspires you to go down and join the party. Do all this, because Los Tentakills are about to drop us a real full-length album for the first time. The Glasgae-based space-bound arts collective, known for insane tribal shows and total dedication to the cause. Still the best kept secret of the Glasgow underground, if they ever do explode across the world scene, bringing their kitschy Americana as the speed of sound, it’ll be like a multi-coloured paint-bomb exploding across the airwaves and there will be no going back.

On We Have Levitation you’ll hear things you won’t hear for the whole rest of the year. Rattling tin can vocals and shuddering lo-fi metallic guitars that are so San-Fran psyche. There’s even a little electric jug in there to cement the 13th Floor Elevators reference with a bullet. But it isn’t pure pastiche, there’s a bunch of the compatriots themselves here slathered thick onto the tape. Their personality that infects so much of their lives shows is present and accounted for here. There are plenty of hollers and whoops and exuberant and self-indulgent rock-band antics and a very real nostalgic feel. This isn’t nostalgia for the past, it’s a mourning and a last swansong for a way of life that’s still around but more threatened and marginalised than ever.

For what it’s worth, this is proof Los Tentakills are fans. This strip of double-sided magnetic tape filled with 30 minutes of proper-certified card-carrying old-timey rock and roll is Martin Luther nailing his protest to the church door. They’re proving they are fans, whatever that means. Fandom can’t be bought for the price of a teeshirt or the time it takes to read an MC5 biography. Fandom is about love and devotion and rock and roll zealotry is not only what Los Tentakills demonstrate but what they demand. There’s old-timey rock songs here, written and performed as love letters each and every one of them to the records Los Tentakills take as inspiration, the 13th Floor Elevators and the Electric Prunes, Dust and even Atomic Rooster. These telephonic ballads are in their own right catchy and blissfully road-trip enjoyable as well as authentically speaker stretching and wah-tastic; and they’re also building the foundation of what Los Tentakills is. Not an authentic old timey rock and roll band knocking out amazing tunes in ridiculous stage garb at the ass-end of the dreary British Isles. Not a yankee cultural invasion sent to show us how it’s done. Not an arts collective hell bent on a-tonal lo-fi domination. And not even a Glasgae jam band formed together as a mutual outlet for all the stresses of everyday life, even if Los Tentakills is all of these things. Through every show, every record, every recording however professional or amateur, and every expression they cause (including this one); what is Los Tentakills? A place to make a stand.

There be a launch party for this sucka at the prestigious 13th Note Café on the 24th of May. Be there and riot.

Written under duress by Steven.

No comments:

Related Posts Plugin for WordPress, Blogger...