Holy fuck, man; that Bold Chicken done went and psyched out my mama! This is such a bluesy ride, it throws me for a loop. Then those nasty choruses kick in and singer Buzz Clic (ooh!) puts forth those massive whoops, hollers, and rants and I totally get why this session, recorded in Ohio in 1972-73, needed to see the light of day again. The production is bound to be a bone of contention for treble-obsessed psych folk, and that’s exactly the reason I dig its guttural hound’s tooth growl. There’s an interesting push-pull from Side A to B. The front-side flares up with more standard rock fare, albeit delivered with just enough muscle to justify revisiting, “Gears & Tears” even doing a weird Elvis thang. The flip, a superior product, was created with a more Captain Beefheart-ish singer at the helm, a strategy I fully respect. Not sure which dude delivers the nasty duo of songs on Side B, but it’s a whole new band when he’s bringing the fucking house down. “Oh Doctor Please” is particularly explosive, a Van Vliet-style freakout (though the Captain hated the term “freak”) stretching out overtop a very un-Beefheart backbone (a.k.a. a straight-up, angular one) that gains a shitload of momentum as soulful backup vox and a hearty beat head the charge. It’s quite a quasi-funky ruckus, tight and nasty like a dolphin-flog. When you’re a small band jamming out somewhere, moments like this make you think you’re going to be a star. And maybe Bold Chicken shoulda been, you know? But life is cool enough to allow for the resuscitation of artifacts like this, so there’s always hope right?
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