Second only to Twisted Village's Wayne Rogers, Nick Saloman is my choice for king of the 60s psychedelic revival when it finally comes back around. Sort of a J Mascis type (he even has the hair!), the British multi-instrumentalist writes all The Bevis Frond's material; he sings and plays just about every instrument on his albums, engineers and produces them, and then releases them on his and Adrian Shaw's Woronzow label, named after a street near where he grew up. Which, for rock history's sake, was close to Abbey Road.
Despite his control-freak tendencies, Saloman comes off as an affable guy without the stoner ego of a guy like Mascis. For starters, he's got major collaborators and not paint-by-numbers cronies feeding off his aura. Most notable is Adrian Shaw (ex-Hawkwind, Magic Muscle, Tom Rapp, etc), who's stuck by Saloman since The Bevis Frond's 1984 inception. In concert, Saloman handles guitar and vocals while Shaw takes the bass; a rotating lineup of drummers-- which on any given day might include Andy Ward (ex-Camel and Marillion) or Joe Propatire (The Silver Apples)-- expand the percussion outward.
As of deadline, Saloman's released 16 albums, plus innumerable collaborations, singles, and one-offs. One of his earlier works, New River Head, was first issued in edited form in 1991. This reissued version takes the opposite route: It includes 30 songs spanning two hours and two CDs, restores the six tracks cut from the 1991 version, and tacks on nine new bonus tracks.
Beginning with the prerecorded sounds of an old-school British announcer, New River Head wastes no time shifting from ho-hum sampling to blistering guitar work. The first proper track, an instrumental called "White Sun", includes the saxophone of Cyke Bancroft (who's illustrated some of The Bevis Frond's album sleeves) alongside Nick Saloman's nuanced riff. The same style comes up in "Solar Marmalade", a studio jam that hits a peak early and remains at that level until the end of its eight-minute run.
"He'd Be a Diamond", a pop song about guys treating girls like shit, has been covered by everyone from Mary Lou Lord (well, obviously) to Juliana Hatfield and Teenage Fanclub. Here, on the original, Saloman croons like Elvis Costello: his voice has often resembled old Four Eyes, but here the structure also follows Costello's pop path. The protracted "God Speed You to Earth" is a dramatic landscape of echoey vocals and gentle strums culminating as pure rock bliss, while "Thankless Task" serves as Saloman's attempt at writing a traditional folk song with more contemporary themes: "I felt the image of a damaged hippie chick was more identifiable than, say, a wronged milkmaid." The result? An upbeat tale that would sound at home on an Incredible String Band album.
With a band this expansive and virtuosic, it's interesting to chart the interactions on the inevitable lengthy freakout. "The Miskatonic Variations II" weighs in at a mind-altering 16:23, but it sure makes an adequate bridge to the bonus tracks. The dozy atmospheric includes Adrian Shaw, Bari Watts, Current 93's David Tibet, Cyke Bancroft, and Barry Dransfield. Almost new age in its arrested entrance, piano, violin, horn and Tibet's creepy chants lead into Carlos Santana-esque guitars, rock-out drums, and, yeah, a full-on mind-melt. Structurally, it's the songs that came before joining together for a final bow.
I was a youngster when New River Head first dropped, and though I wouldn't consider myself a manic fan of The Frond, the other day I tallied nine of the band's records in my collection. Some are less interesting than others, sure, but each is at least somewhat compelling due to Saloman's inclination to forever fuck with psychedelic conventions and tackle diverse genres without a hitch. Within such an impressive body of work, New River Head is certainly the crown jewel. One of the headier agglomerations of the past decade, its non-grasping pace and epic palette issue the breezy confidence of an unmistakable classic.
