I Walked With a Zombie: A Roky Erickson Primer
| Chris Gray |
| Okkervil River's Will Sheff (left) and Roky Erickson at the 2008 Austin Music Awards |
R.I.P. John Byrne (Count Five)
Count Five, "Psychotic Reaction"
Here comes sad news that will bring down us dancing drunken fools who make our way up to Boondocks every third Saturday for Reverberation. John Byrne, lead singer of Nuggets mainstays the Count Five, has passed away at the age of 61.
The San Jose-based band's biggest hit, 1966's "Psychotic Reaction" is now a garage-rock staple, a real dance-ready harmonica freak-out. Anytime someone makes a definitive '60s garage compilation, you can count on this track making an appearance along with their peers like the Standells and the Seeds. Rock journalist Christ-figure Lester Bangs championed the Five extensively during his career, even titling landmark essay "Psychotic Reactions and Carburetor Dung" after the band's hit, and check out Tom Petty & the Heartbreakers' live cover here.
The Five had a pseudo-goth feel, before bands like the Cramps could even buy cigarettes. They were known to wear Dracula-style capes on stage and drive to gigs in a converted hearse. Like many bands in the mid-'60s, the Count Five didn't last too long, undone by changing tastes, and you know, the '60s. Byrne and the rest of the band only reconvened to accept various awards and play the odd one-off nostalgia gig. - Craig Hlavaty
Slip Inside This House: MP3s from Thirteenth Floor Elevators and The Chaparral Trio

Yes, I’m well aware that the Thirteenth Floor Elevators were not Houstonians. The band many claim was the first to use the descriptive term “psychedelic” for its music was based in Austin; a few members moved there from the small Hill Country town of Kerrville. But Houston holds a very fair stake in the band’s existence.
Save a few posthumous releases, the Elevators' entire output came out on Lelan Rogers’ (brother of Kenny) Houston-based International Artists label. The Elevators recorded in Houston often, including this dreamy take on Bob Dylan’s “It’s All Over Now, Baby Blue” done at Walt Andrus’ Andrus Studios.
You can also find this cut on the Elevators' standout 1967 LP Easter Everywhere, one of the finest psychedelic albums ever recorded. If you want to learn more about the group, try reading Paul Drummond's 2007 book Eye Mind: The Saga of Roky Erickson and the 13th Floor Elevators, the Pioneers of Psychedelic Sound, or rent the DVD of Kevin McAlester's 2005 documentary You're Gonna Miss Me: A Film About Roky Erickson.
Slip Inside This House: MP3s from S.J. and the Crossroads and the Six Pents

The history of white garage rockers influenced by black soul screamers and blues guitarists is as deep as the ocean: Elvis, the Rolling Stones, Zeppelin all made their mountains of cash off of black music, and most of them laid down tons of cover versions of the best songs they could find. Allen Toussaint’s “Get Out of My Life Woman,” about ending things with his devil-woman ladyfriend may be one the best examples.
Originally written and recorded by Toussaint, Lee Dorsey also had a hit with it, and garage groups like the Leaves and S.J. and the Crossroads loved to cover it. Still, Crossroads take on this tune has always stood out to me. No other version I know has the same piss and fire you might expect to hear in a song about telling your lady to hit the road.
The Crossroads were based in Beaumont, where they stayed busy playing around the Golden Triangle area and got regular local radio play. They became a mainstay at many local clubs and school dances and recorded six singles; 1968’s “Get Out of My Life” was their last. After numerous lineup shifts and draft card numbers being called, the Crossroads called it quits.
Slip Inside This House: MP3s from the Clique, the Cicadelics and the Blox

The Clique, “Splash 1”
How massive was the influence of the Thirteenth Floor Elevators on Texas musicians back in the day? Big enough that many groups tried adding their own electric jug player, and every single one was a dud (at best).
Other groups like the Clique settled for covering some of the Elevators’ finer material like “Splash 1.”After the demise of the band Lavender Hour, the majority of its members reformatted their sound from pop/garage/punk outfit to an assortment of late-‘60s psychedelia. They went on to record a slew of singles and one album for the White Whale label in the very early ‘70s; none of which, unfortunately, were as good.
I would like to hate this group for writing the song “Superman,” of which, unbeknownst to them, R.E.M. went on to record a dreadful cover on 1986’s Life’s Rich Pageant. But the fact remains that on “Splash 1,” the Clique managed to do the Elevators justice where everyone else’s attempts fell flat on their faces. The song was released on the local Cinema and then Wand labels, followed by a national release on Scepter – none of which garnered much attention.
Slip Inside This House: MP3s from the Moving Sidewalks, the Proper Circle and Those Boys
The Moving Sidewalks, “I Want to Hold Your Hand”

It would really be screwed up if I kept on writing this column on Houston psych and garage 45s and didn’t show some love to the Moving Sidewalks. So here’s everybody’s real favorite little ol’ band from Texas.
Long before those beards began to sprout and songs with a ridiculous amount of sexual innuendo were written, Billy F. Gibbons was already a Houston psychedelic deity. Formed in 1967, the Moving Sidewalks were one of the - if not the - premier psych bands in the Bayou City scene, thanks primarily to their ridiculous single titled “99th Floor” on the local Tantara label; it became a regional hit and was picked up for national distribution by the Wand label soon thereafter.
If you’ve heard one Sidewalks song, it’s probably that one. But Slip Inside This House’s goal is to highlight some of the darker corners of local psych and garage, so although “99th Floor” is a damn good 45 and one of my favorites, how about an insane psychedelic version of a Beatles classic instead?
Slip Inside This House: MP3s from Yesterday's Obsession, the Liberty Bell and the Lavender Hour

Yesterday’s Obsession, "The Phycle"
A heavy-handed organ chugging along with soft vocals and some really interesting swirling guitars, "The Phycle" is a true psychedelic work of audible art from Houston. Released in 1966, this single 45 stands as the solitary release by yet another one of Huey P. Meaux’s mystery groups.
From the sheer quality of the song, as well as B-side "Complicated Mind," it’s hard to imagine these guys didn’t record more, or that they didn’t play in other bands as well. They most likely did, but any record of who the band members actually were seems gone with the wind or filed away a la the Ark of the Covenant in Raiders of the Lost Ark.
It was clear, though, that Meaux had some hope for these boys; Pacemaker was his flagship and most recognizable label. B.J. Thomas, Freddy Fender and Gloria Edwards were all regulars; even Roy Head had a couple of Pacemaker releases. Both sides were recorded at Houston’s Gold Star Studios (now Sugar Hill), the subject of Dr. Roger Wood’s next book. Maybe he can solve this psychedelic puzzle.
Slip Inside This House: MP3s from the Great Believers, Bobby Mabe and the Outcast and the Ninth Street Bridge
[Ed. Note: This is the companion to Rocks Off's Wax Museum feature, focusing here on Houston's psychedelic and garage-rock legacy.]

The Great Believers, "Comin’ Up Fast, Part 1"
I figured we might as well start this thing off with a bang, and there could be no better Houston garage 45 for the job than the Great Believers. Undoubtedly one of the fuzziest recordings ever made, it hits like a truck. Between that warm feeling of the Cookie Monster keys and the acoustic guitar, The Great Believers sound like the big brother the Monks never had.
The name Believers may be unfamiliar, but you’ve probably heard of their singer/guitarist and keyboardist - later known to the world as the Winter Brothers. This was one of Johnny and Edgar’s very first outings in the music world; they also played together in short-lived local garage group the Black Plague. Cascade, meanwhile, was yet another of local record mogul Huey P. Meaux’s labels. How many did he own? I doubt such a question can ever be answered beyond a simple "tons."





Post a Comment




























