Bobby Beausoleil – Lucifer Rising Suite RARE 4xLP Box (Sealed)

$

40

Bobby Beausoleil is a rare find these days. He not only meets the hype, but eclipses it, his long-forgotten recordings given new life over the last few years, culminating in a lush reissue of Lucifer Rising with lots of additional material (full title: Lucifer Rising: Original Soundtrack and Sessions Anthology) slathered sinfully across four black-baked LPs.

Music by convicts will always be a strange proposition. It’s enough to make a man wonder: How could I even consider getting down with this? Is there anything more rebellious than listening to the music of a Charles Manson-following freakazoid?

I don’t know about all that (though I have my suspicions) … Coming into this review I just wanted the hype to mean something for once. And it does — in the end, the music wins out, my reservations meaningless. I don’t know the full extent of Beausoleil’s story, I just know his music is alright.

Lucifer Rising is dominated by elements that might have been novel back in their day. That said, it doesn’t result in the tunes sounding dated or sepia-stained in any way — if anything, the passage of time has allowed the listener to progress to the point where 10-plus-minute future-psych jams floating in the air like ghosts on a log raft made of clouds is a welcome occurrence, nothing out of the ordinary, particularly if you’ve been space-casing out to Ghost, Titan, Black Angels (actually not so much), Acid Mothers Temple, Jennifer Gentle, Bardo Pond, Psychic Paramount, Brian Jonestown Massacre or Gris Gris (a personal flavor-ite, named after a Dr. John album) with the rest of us.

But even with all the preceding material considered, the mainline jamz of Side B remain an exciting discovery, replete with expansive spools of drone and slippery slashes of synth-a-goggery. At least I hope that’s what is making those eery, loch-ness noises that cause me to stir and look about the room as if for the first time (I might just be drunk).

Then, a ways through Side Bizzle, the BAND kicks back in like a funky afro puff and locks down a rowdy psych-dance jam. There’s nothing like this around — spontaneous riffing about like soldiers in the ghost-grips of battle, chasing their souls down a deep closet-sized casket. (Know what I mean?)

I’ll say this: The more I investigate soundtracks, the more I find to like. I can’t even remember being disappointed by a soundtrack purchase … Brown Bunny was the dopeskins, Ennio Morricone is a sure bet, David Axelrod kicks fucking ass; hell, I even remember the Bill & Ted’s Excellent Adventure 2 soundtrack being good, what with the unreleased Faith No More track and all (“The Perfect Crime,” as in “no one saw the” – Mike Patton in prime, prowling form).

As is par for the course with a lot of psych groups in similar circles, there’s a mystical feel flowing through the Lucifer Rising material like electrical current under an Egyptian sea of rhythms. The occult? Meh. But it’s there too, like the power of three Celtic Frost albums played simultaneously or a Burzum original played in the dark after 2 a.m. every Sunday Bloody Sunday.

There’s whiffs of the Sun City Girls every so often, too, and Amon Duul II show up and help with extending jams past the breaking point. Guru Guru? Yeah sure, the good stuff. Popol Vuh? Don’t push ya luck, soldier.

I guess I’ve stayed my hour. Peace.

More photos and a sound sample can be found on gumshoegrove.com or OMG Vinyl.