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@JERO – Good question, but I have to laugh. You really do seem to have a hard-on for knocking the ‘proggies’ from ‘back in the day’.
It seems hardly three or four of your posts go by without taking a swipe at them Most of the types of musically emotional moments that you speak of happened to me years ago listening to other bands/artists – Joni Mitchell, Neil Young, CSN/CSNY, The Who, the Sex Pistols, Stevie Wonder, REM, PiL, the Waterboys, belting out the songs of other artists (and a few of my own) while hammering at my six-string acoustic, a very angry and cathartic period in 2002/3 listening to a lot of Eminem, and then a whole bunch of songs here and there from artists like Ani di Franco, Lauryn Hill, Tracey Thorn, Jane Siberry …
Probably the biggest emotional responses I’ve had to music though have come in the form of ecstatic highs from bands like Yes, King Crimson, Genesis, Pink Floyd, Zeppelin, Magma, Anekdoten, Solstice, and loads more – highs that come from riding the wave of the musical movement, letting my thinking and emotional self transcend into the music. I’ve had, of course, the same response to the other bands/artists listed above (Mitchell, Young, the Who, the Waterboys etc.), and from music that’s prompted me to dance – be it reggae, Bhangra, fusion, soul … From most music, in fact.
Motorpsycho, for me, in the 18 months that I’ve been listening to them, have in the vast majority evoked the latter response – ecstatic transcendence. If I were to pick out one song though, from which I could really pinpoint an emotional reaction, it’d have to be Upstairs/Downstairs. I don’t have any kids of my own, but my step-daughter had a son four years ago, and Snah’s delivery of the somewhat saccharine but still heart-tugging lyrics always prompt a little water in the eyes. Indeed, Snah’s fragile vocal delivery on its own is sometimes enough to move me that way.
@Bartok – Growing up in the suburbs of London I cannot imagine what it must have been like growing up in the same neighbourhood as a band like Motorpsycho. In London, everybody knows someone or knows someone who knows someone famous, and you can bump into well-known musicians all the time if you go to enough gigs or just walk down the right roads. For example, last year I walked past Carl Palmer who was out doing some shopping with his wife (I was wearing a Motorpsycho T-shirt). But there's no personal attachment to those things – a slight thrill, a boast, or name-dropping.
I hope this doesn't sound patronising, but it must be completly different in somewhere like Trondheim because of the personal feeling of being so physically and culturally close to those people and because in a way Motorpsycho, by what I understand, were one of, if not the, most important new rock band in Norway back then, putting Trondheim on the map. I imagine you and a whole bunch more young kids were very proud of that. This was a serious band, making amazing music and they were from your neighbourhood. So the relationship would have been completely different. I guess that would create a serious attachment to the music of that specific time. And yes,I agree, the music we listen to as teenagers or young adults really affects us in a special way. And for me, progresive rock was the thing. Yes was the band I fell in love with and after 1978 everything seemed to go downhill. Having said that, most people would agree, though there are those that still think the band are wonderful. I had years and years without listening to them, then about ten years ago picked up again, listened to what I had missed and started seeing them live again. They're nothing like what they used to be but the old music is still some of the very best I've ever heard and bits and pieces of what they've done in the intervening years has also been very good. But unlike Motorpsycho, they lost the magic. They slowed down, members came and went, they got rich and rested on their laurels. They lost the urgency.
I think I hear a bit of that in your comments, the idea that maybe MP lost the urgency that was so important to what they were in the 90s. I think the difference though is maybe that they found a way to keep their approach immediate and personal. I gather they turned down moving to Oslo, and getting involved with bigger labels or promoters. They appear mostly to have stayed tight with their roots and the people from that period. And they appear still to be very much a part of the Trondheimian cultural tapestry. I like that.
Have you read Geb's chapter in Supersonic Scientists? I love the fact that he's so down to earth about his departure from the band and all the things he says about why he really didn't want to write the chapter and to have to go back and listen to BH/BC. It's a great view from the inside/outside about where he thought the band was going, what it had become.
It's funny that you say the winks and nods probably started with LTEC because the first one I noticed was PPP (Ms Mitchell in the bathroom) on AADAP. And I have wondered if on DB Tuesday Morning was a wink to the Velvet Underground's Sunday Morning (though musically it's Coventry Boy that's the distillation of Sunday Morning, Femme Fatale and I'll Be Your Mirror), Babylon a nod to the Ruts' Babylon's Burning, and Sheer Profundity a reference to David Crosby's ironic exclamation on CSNY's 4 Way Street just before he begins the song Triad (I think anyone who knew that album would make the link, whether MP intended it or not). All that stuff just seems to be a part of their DNA to me, but then again, I wasn't there at the beginning and I've never had the luck to read or hear anything direct from the horse's mouth on the matter. So most of those thoughts on DB are just my own speculation.
I find it intersting that it's their "unofficial" collaborative material that you appreciate more. Especially DDU and Konsert, both of which, one of my friends who introduced me to the band doesn't like so much because they're "too prog" for him!!
It's fantastic to hear where you're coming from, your personal experience over the years and that you still see in them the things that made them great during those early days even if the music doesn't have the same effect or appears to be somewhat distant from then.
Thanks.
Sounds from the Dark Side
Finally it’s time to say something about “Motorpsychodeliaâ€. So prog nerds and metalheads, unite.
I reckon that SftDS readers must have heard about Motorpsycho by now. If you haven’t, same on you! The Norwegian prog-psych rockers have been around since 1989 and released more than 20 full albums, a dozen EP’s and a handful of live albums. Bent Sæther and his boys still go strong everywhere they go. The nice thing about Motorpsycho is that you never know what you’re going to get. Indie rock, alternative metal, jazz, sympho or noise, they’ve done it al.
Timothy’s Monster (1995), Let Them Eat Cake (2000), Barracuda (2001), the first two volumes of the Roadwork live series and especially In The Fishtank 10 (2003) with Jaga Jazzist Horns belong to my personal highlights. Hereafter I lost track of the band in the mid-2000s only to briefly pick them up again in 2012 with The Death Defying Unicorn on which Norwegian jazz legend Ståle Storløkken plays a major part. Two years Motorpsycho got my full attention again after they released the versatile double album The Tower. This album never got a proper review here (my bad) so let’s just say the recently released The Crucible is our second chance to say some words about this monumental band.
The Tower was a return to form for Motorpsycho. Under influence of a new drummer, Tomas Järmyr, the band once again explored their more diverse alternative rock roots without forgetting the more proggy experiment in the second part. Where The Tower ends The Crucible starts. With 3 lengthy tracks Sæther et al takes us deeper into the world of 70s progressive rock.
‘Psychotzar’ is the hinge between both albums. With a gong, strong riffs and various rootsy guitar solos this track extents the atmosphere from The Tower onto this new record. Yet, after about 3 minutes tension builds due to Järmyr’s heavier drumming and Sæther’s meandering vocals. This eventually leads to a compelling sounding track that at some points even is a bit bombastic like Led Zeppelin. As expected Motorpsycho wouldn’t be Motorpsycho if they played out this track in linear fashion. The sting of ‘Psychotzar’ is its tail. Here a throat gripping horror-like guitar riff serves as a dark ending.
‘Lux Aeterna’s’ is an ode to Bent Sæther mother who died 6 months ago. In contrast to ‘Psychotzar’ the lead in brings some air in the first minutes, although in a sorrowful manner. Some light guitar play, horns and keyboard intertwine with Sæther’s singing here, thus accentuating the sad beginning. Under pressure of further surging horns the song slowly progresses into a apotheosis that is suddenly interrupted by a piano which is quickly followed by an intoxicating whirlwind of jazzrock. After the restless midsection Sæther intervenes and eventually gives room to a cinematic saxophone solo that leads in a placid fade out.
With 20 minutes on the clock the title track makes up half of the album when it comes to playing time. The melodious beginning directly reminds of prog acts of old like King Crimson and Yes. Again Järmyr shows he’s an asset to the lineup by showcasing various impressive drum variations during the first few minutes. The band changes gear once more. This time by means of a light Pink Floyd-ish guitar interlude. Hereafter Sæther takes over with a few clear verses and as guitars riffs grow heavier the build up starts again. Now the band slaps us around with an unwavering industrial-strength like midsection full of noise. Just like on ‘Lux Aeterna’ the contrast is huge only this time it’s gloomier. Also the repetitiveness makes it the most powerful track on the album. After a few short tempo changes Motorpsycho combines the melodious opening with harsher structures of the track, this time leaving aside the noise we heard on the midsection. In the end I can only conclude that ‘The Crucible’ sets out like classic a progrock poem with a wonderful feeling for detail and structuring.
You could say The Crucible is a worthy ending for The Tower. Yet The Crucible also is strong enough the carry the weight of being a full album on its own. For this you have to understand it as progrock album without a predominant catchy side. Naturally Motorpsycho doesn’t deliver progrock just the fit the genre. The Crucible is Motorpsycho’s statement telling us that they will keep on pushing forward the standards they set for themselves thirty years ago by incorporating their own unique twists. Consequently Motorpsycho’s work still is and will be relevant factor to look out for.
https://soundsfromthedarkside.com/2019/02/20/motorpsycho-the-crucible/#more-5794
Translated from Spanish.
What is the reason for this new interest born again in what the Norwegian Motorpsycho do? It is not that in these 30 years his fans have left them, but it is undeniable that his mass of followers has increased considerably. A change of sound? It's hard to say with a band that poses each album as a challenge not to repeat itself, but if we have to blame someone for this new "success" we should look at their drummer Tomas Järmyr.
Already in his previous "The Tower" he showed us how versatile it can be, how his percussion can totally change the recurring offering of Norwegians, and how, with only a few months of playing with them, he has managed to create a sound vision that he liked so much to the old followers as the newcomers, even if they lean towards a more "popero" side of Motorpsycho.
Now that Tomas is more at ease and can be more released next to Bent and Snah is when we really see all his ability as a musician, and I sincerely believe that is why this "The Crucible" shows us a more progressive than psychedelic side of Motorpsycho , without having to take exclusively to King Crimson or Yes. There are 3 songs and 40 minutes where the band goes straight to the point, while trying to give depth to the technical side.
Never better said, songs like "Psychotzar" are epic adventures of guitar solos, a lot of mellotron and cowbells in the drums that start softly and go writhing as the song progresses. We see how Järmyr is gradually increasing the intensity of their batteries, raising the tension until it explodes in a progression of guitar chords that feel like a punch in the stomach .
That said it must be said that the most "rare" and experimental part of the album comes in the following two songs, "Lux Aeterna" and "The Crucible" , where vertigo is more palpable in the crossing of pianos, saxophone, different rhythmic patterns and a mix by the sound engineer that makes everything excellent in this apparent chaos, and where the voices have a weight presence in the melodies without being guided by the guitar lines . If something is composed the second part is of contrasts.
They can hardly overcome this masterpiece in the near future, a rather pretentious work that has gone perfectly after finding the perfect piece that they needed. It will be very hard to survive the expectations from now on, but for the moment we live the present and flip it.
https://goetiamedia.com/review-motorpsycho-the-crucible-la-banda-en-lo-mas-alto-de-su-juego/
@punknotyet – 8O That's too funny.
And while we're about it. I'd love to hear about other people's journies and how their love of the band has turned them into mad Motorpsychotics.
Come on Bartok. What's your story?
@Kid A – I know what you mean, but that passion can easily undermine level-headedness and unbiased critique. That's why we see so many 'reviewers' writing such rubbish these days. A fan is not necessarily going to be a good critic, or a fair one. And at the other end of the spectrum, we also get profitable mags like Rolling Stone thinking they are the arbiters of good taste in rock music, and therefore the ones who not only come up with the ridiculous notion of a Rock n Roll Hall of Fame, but think themselves the ones best suited to decide who should be considered to go into it (what a fucking daft and ridiculous thing that is – I hoped Yes would never be inducted, but they were).
But thanks – I really do appreciate your point.
I was introduced to Motorpsycho by two friends who I got to know through, and mostly only ever meet at, concerts. They had mentioned MP several times and for a couple of years had on occasion urged me to listen to them, but somehow I just didn’t get around to it. Then they said MP were coming to town (London, Oct 2017) and that I really shouldn’t miss it. So I said, OK, tell me where to start. One of them suggested Phanerothyme and Behind the Sun. He didn’t want to overload me and he thought they would be (a) accessible and (b) varied enough to pique my interest. I listened to Phano first, realising that somehow I’d heard Go To California before, at that friend’s house. It was all pleasant enough and GTC has a great hook and is a fantastic distillation of late-60s West Coast sounds (Doors, Mamas and Papas, Beach Boys, CSNY, Jefferson Airplane), but it didn’t get its hooks in me. Behind the Sun also sounded good, but again it didn’t really do it. But I bought a ticket for the gig anyway and consequently decided I had to give them a proper shot. So I listened to both those albums twice more. On the third run through of Phano, For Free suddenly hit me; and on the third run through of BHS, it was the guitar solo in Hell, Part 4–6. I then sat up and took notice!
Like most people I listen to music under varied circumstances, but am especially lucky that working from home, I can play music when I’m doing some of the more laborious and less mental tasks. That allows me to hear/listen to a lot of music, but sometimes it takes a while or a special moment before something really hits me. But when it does I start to pay more attention of course.
Listening to Phano and BHS I had at first been surprised, obviously, that these two albums were by the same band. I had also looked briefly at their back catalogue as listed on ProgArchives – a pretty good source for getting an idea of what a band has released as well as a rating system based on members’ individual ratings. Of course I quickly realised that MP were fairly prolific, but I’ve been around long enough to be into or familiar with plenty of bands/artists that have released lots of albums (Zappa, Neil Young, Bill Laswell, Ravi Shankar for example). The question though was where to continue after Phano and BHS. Well The Tower was on its way and as I had a ticket to see them I figured it would pay to get familiar with that – I figured they’d play at least a couple of songs from that album (most ‘old’ bands seem to be tied by promoters’ wishes that they play the music that made them popular [i.e. the old stuff] so I didn’t expect more than a couple of tracks to be aired at the gig – how wrong I was). But I also followed my usual approach and picked out the higher rated albums (4 stars +) on ProgArchives, which are (in date order): Trust Us (4.08), Phano (4.14), Fishtank (4.17), DDU (4.16), BHS (4.02). (FYI The Tower is now 4.02, and The Crucible 4.03.) So I listened to Trust Us, which just fucking blew my mind. I knew the earlier material was going to be more grungy, but I was not prepared for just how much I’d like this album! Next up Fishtank, which also fucking blew my mind because it’s primarily a jazz/rock fusion album. Wait, what? And Tristano was just mesmerising. And then DDU, which after one or two spins I couldn’t listen to for quite a long while because it was just too rich. I still find it overwhelming – there’s so much to digest. For me it stands equal to the very best double concept albums I’ve been listening to for donkeys years: Yes –Tales from Topographic Oceans; Genesis – The Lamb Lies Down on Broadway; The Who – Quadrophenia. (I’m tempted to add Stevie Wonder’s Songs in the Key of Life to that list, but is it really a concept album?) And it makes Pink Floyd’s The Wall look somewhat childishly pathetic.
So there I was, six completely different albums by one band. I now had an urge to know what they sounded like live as a look at the track listings on the RW albums made it clear they were extending their songs somewhat. Friends recommended RW4, so I bought that too. But the only song on that that I knew to date was Landslide (Phano). But then I also somehow stumbled upon the video of 577 live from RW3 and that was a fucking revelation in itself! Watching that video I was transported back to Led Zeppelin’s performance of ‘No Quarter’ in the film The Song Remains the Same, my favourite track from that film and one of my favourite Page solos. It’s an entirely difference style, but that watching HMR create a solo out of mostly chords and carrying it higher and higher, well I think that was when I started to understand snahisgod and he started to become what I can now easily say: one of my three all-time favourite guitarists (the other two being Steve Howe from Yes and Andy Glass from UK folk-prog band Solstice).
More importantly, this is when I began to realise that Motorpsycho are not actually a band, they’re a phenomenon. OK, ok, we can say all great musicians, bands are phenomena, sure. The Dead, Zeppelin, Bowie, Shankar, Zappa, Young, Mitchell, Hendrix, the Beatles, the Pistols and so on. But in MP’s case, there was something different, something I couldn’t yet grasp. So I started to listen to more albums. Yes, primarily the Kenneth era ones, but slowly and surely pushing further and further back. I was wary of Lobotomizer, 8 Soothing Songs and Demon Box. I don’t particularly like metal in the form of thrash, death, black metal, with screaming vocals, and that was what I had told myself I would find in those albums. But I had loved Trust Us and also really liked a lot of AADAP, which I bought as the box set so as to ensure I had the full three EPs. Yes, Blissard took a while for me to get into, but as is often the case, the headphones took care of that. Like most people, with headphones I can immerse myself in the sound and texture, and that’s what was needed. I also had to get past the whole lo-fi thing. In the 90s I wasn’t listening to new 90s bands – sure, a bit of Nirvana and Soundgarden that crossed my path, odds and ends here and there, but I was living in Canada and India during that time, running a small business and meditating. The music I listened to was either Sanskrit or Hindi chanting, Hindu devotional music, Bhangra, or Jah Wobble, Bill Laswell, Transglobal Underground, some reggae, some dub, Ozric Tentacles, some folk. So the current rock scene and the bands that were, I guess, marked as grunge, indie or alternative mostly passed me by. So lo-fi was a bit odd to me. That made listening to both TM and Blissard a bit difficult. But tracks like The Wheel, Giftland, The Golden Core, and Manmower and STG had a more positive immediate effect. After that it was just listening to those albums enough times and in the right environment for them to get their hooks in me.
The pop period was rather more accessible, and it’s those three albums, and BH/BC that really revealed to me what a fucking great songwriter Bent is. That also helped me access and appreciate some of the songs on TM and Blissard that I had found less immediately accessible.
As for DB and earlier, that was a bit of hard work, but again, what was I going to do? The band had proven to me that they make great music in all genres they touch. I’m not overly fond of Lob, 8, DB, but here is a phenomenon finding its place. I love a couple of the songs on Lob and 8, for example Step Inside, but the genre style doesn’t work so well for me. Same with the Tussler albums – there’s some great songs, but the style doesn’t get me excited.
DB is something different though. This was clearly their moment and listening to it I realised why. I don’t warm to all the songs on it, but as a complete album, there’s no questioning its brilliance, its audacity, and its statement. This was a band to reckon with. Join in or get out of the way because we’re here, we’re moving forwards, and we’re not stopping for any muthafucka. But I still can’t understand how Mountain was removed from that album. I had never heard it when they played it at my second MP gig in Köln in Nov 2017, which was odd because prior to the London gig I had been following the playlists of the tour, which also fucked with my head (especially when the Bremen setlist was posted), and I’d been picking out the songs they were playing and listening to them if I hadn’t yet heard them. In Köln (one of the greatest live experiences of my life), it was one great jam after another. Mountain was for me perhaps the highlight after the 42 minutes of K9, though it’s hard to say, it was such a mind-blowingly magnificent gig.
By now (I mean in Köln) I had started to develop in my brain a theory about what made the band so special, unique as far as I’m concerned. I tried desperately to explain to Tomcat who I met for the first time that evening. How do you explain to someone who’s seen the band nearly a hundred times and been following them since lord knows when, your theory about what makes that band special when you’ve only been into them for a few months? Not only that, I had convinced myself that there was a German word, used in philosophy or some other branch of the arts and social sciences, that pretty much encapsulated my thoughts. English people are famously useless at non-English languages and here I was, talking to a German whose English is pretty much perfect. D’oh!
Anyway, I think one of the terms I was grasping for was gessamelte Werke, which means roughly ‘collected works’. The other is Weltanshauung, which means, roughly, world view, or a comprehensive philosophy or conception of the universe. My point is that MP is not a band that puts out albums. MP is a phenomenon that can only be appreciated, or rather is best appreciated as a whole, as a collection of works and actions and approaches and intentions that all feed into that whole. A whole that is propelled by the band’s world view, which appears to be to live for music and to never let one part be separate from the whole.
Write music. Make music. Play music. Record music. Rehearse the music. Play with it. See what happens when you strap on a guitar. Go with it. Develop it. Never let that music which has already been written, recorded and played get old. Never let the new music be treated as anything less than the old music – play it, play with it. They seem always to want to be getting on with it. Never taking it easy, never resting on laurels, never thinking a particular song has had its time. Keeping their art alive and kicking; keeping it immediate; keeping it in the now. And like I said about Demon Box: we’re here, we’re moving forwards, and we’re not stopping for any muthafucka. That apparent statement seems as true today as then. And the beauty of it all, of this gessamelte Werke, this Weltanschauung, is that it creates a feedback loop. Everything they do and have done seems to infinitely feedback into what they’re doing now, and now, and now and they work to keep that alive. In the studio, in the rehearsal space, on stage. (And even in their relationship to the music they listen to, whether new or old, punk or classical.) It’s a fucking glorious thing to witness. Of course they may not be the only band to work like this, but I don’t know (a) any others that kept it up for so long (b) any others that actually appear to make it their raison d’être (c) any others whose almost entire catalogue I also actually happen to love. So when I listen to DB, I may not like all I hear, but I fucking absolutely appreciate what is going on and what happened at that moment. And the same feeling feeds into all the albums I listen to.
Finally. You ask what do I consider their ‘best’ period? The one that stretches from about 1989 to 2019. I have my favourite albums: Trust Us, Phanerothyme, Fishtank, HMF, DDU, BHS, Folk Flest, HBM/HBM2, The Tower (I will probably add The Crucible to that list). So I guess the Kenneth era contains more albums that do it for me – but that is just my taste and by no means meant as a critical statement – and so far, not a single bummer in the Tomas era.
And before The Crucible came out, my three go-to albums were Child of the Future, The Motorpnakotic Fragments, and Barracuda, three ‘albums’ that I had earlier considered as pretty ordinary. But I don’t consider any period ‘better’, they just have different qualities that seem to shine as the band progresses, evolves, refuses to be tied down, refuses to stand still. Does this answer your question(s)?
EDIT: Having just read through this, I should add that for those who think all the philosophical meanderings about worldview etc. is all just ridiculously self-important, high-minded guff, I can't disagree. It's easy to lose perspective when you're obsessed by something.
@ Bartok – Thanks for your comments and your questions. I'll respond in a new thread so as not to bother this one.
I was initially put off by the cover, but based on the responses I had to listen. What a ride! Some of it ticks all the right boxes for me, but the problem is the bits that don't. Will definitely give it another listen – it's an immense piece of work well worth a listen and possibly more.
Metal.de
Translated from German by Deepl
MOTORPSYCHO now follow the huge "The Tower" with "The Crucible". Three men, three songs, three announcements. Because Hans Magnus Ryan (guitars, vocals), Bent Sæther (bass, vocals) and recently Tomas Järmyr (drums) pose at least considerable challenges to the ear trained at other big conservatory triads like SODOM and the MENTORS. The title song alone is more than 20 minutes long – during this time the mentioned ghosts have already accommodated entire albums. And "The Crucible" accommodates more styles than "Obsessed By Cruelty" chords. On the one hand.
MOTORPSYCHO go also without previous education
On the other hand, MOTORPSYCHO manage, as usual, that their music is not only waved through by music-as-science-understanders. And that "The Crucible" probably won't be highly praised – you don't want to expose yourself for security reasons, but can't name a single song after two weeks – will be forgotten.
The three gentlemen never lose sight of the song despite all their hooks and feints. (And better, the description sounds worn out than their object.)
"Psychotzar" at the beginning is increased by gong blows and Mellotron is darkly decorated, but remains grounded by a concise and catchy early seventies iommi riff. Including classic rock solo, distinctive bass and hypnotic harmony vocals, the piece goes comparatively directly into the bloodstream.
"The Crucible" deep fries Psychedelic and Prog Rock deluxe
"Lux Aeterna" then begins to indulge in BEATLES megalomania, the acoustic sounds to polyphonic singing, then the strings come, at some point isolated riffs, manic drumming – and the jazz rock madness breaks out without a trace. John Zorn successfully tries to come close to an actual song. And that's the special thing about MOTORPSYCHO: Three guys (not only according to rock standards) turn instrumentally completely free for a few minutes and yet the whole thing doesn't sound like an end in itself and too small a penis. But exciting. And pretty cool. That the song ends quiet again after a wild Rock'n'Roll transition fits.
And the title track? Everything for 20 minutes? "Writing about music is like dancing to architecture." (KETTCAR) Or rather: Some things simply shouldn't be dissected excessively. It's still rock. But in the Sweaty-Deluxe-Version. Overwhelming. Psychedelic and Prog Rock are artfully fried into an oversized acoustic snack.
Cautious hint: Better become a Psychonaut. Now.
4/5 from Sputnik
https://www.sputnikmusic.com/review/78981/Motorpsycho-The-Crucible/
