Francisco Pais (guitar, voice), Myron Walden (tenor), Godwin Louis (alto), Julian Shore (piano), Connor Schultze (bass), Ferenc Nemeth (drums). Additional vocals - Genetta Kha, Jacklyn Chan.
(Review by Steve T)
Jazz, rock, prog, country, blues, West Coast psychedelia, acid folk, indie, funk; it may be easier to define what this album isn't.
Unashamed synthesizer lines, that most scorned symbol of classic rock excess, though very little by way of needless flash in the guitar pyrotechnics stakes, which is a breath of fresh air.
The prog thing seems to me to come from fellow Europeans Focus from the Hammond of Thais Van Leer and guitar of Jan Akkerman, which I often hear in backward-looking forward thinking Jazzers, though I'm not sure it's always on a conscious level.
Pais’ Portuguese, another Berklee scholarship, now resides in New York City which must be bursting with guitarists.
On this, his fourth album, he pays tribute to his earliest guitar influences: Robert Johnson, Muddy Waters, Howlin Wolf, Chuck Berry, Clapton and Hendrix.
The two names which sprung to mind on first play were Zappa and Beefheart. I certainly hear the blues strain of the Captain though he's gone back to Beefheart’s main influences, and particularly the Wolf. There's also loads of early Mothers in there but again, it may not be on a conscious level or maybe they've arrived at similar conclusions from comparable influences.
The song suite format 'without edits or isolation' was also prevalent in Frank’s music of that period resulting in a post-modern melting pot, though many have incorporated it since.
Certainly the short dance infused interludes are an addition to the format as I'm familiar with it, and these appear late in the album, interspersed with three songs with a West Coast feel in the vein of Crosby, Stills, Nash, Young or the band America, or perhaps a more British psychedelic folk thing not unlike the Incredible String Band or even pre T Rex Tyrannosaurus Rex, delivered in a frail voice reminiscent of Gerry Garcia or George Harrison but with more vulnerability than any Summer of Love fake hippy.
The sort of thing the post punk rock media in this country might call hippy nonsense.
I tried to find a good example of the lyrics but found that each verse would serve to illustrate the point, so I picked the final verse which is also amongst the shortest:
We lay by our dreams
We exhale a cloud
Find a sunset full of moons
Until the sun shines in our palm.
It's an awful long time since I've heard lyrics in that style though I've no doubt they've never entirely gone away
However, I hope not everyone is put off and some will buy it or download it or whatever; it's a bold and fascinating musical journey.
Steve T.
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