THE MAGUS

Though I never have grown as a huge fan of Third Ear Band, some charm from their earlier records had lured my thoughts enough still, making me want to skim their discography for any ancient minimalist droning or scarce beautiful sequences make me to understand their tale more deeper. With this album one is able to witness the final moments of their 1960's/1970's line-up, recorded after the "Macbeth" soundtrack, and released postponed after thirty years. Most radical changes in their sound for the earlier records heard are in my opinion heavier presence of electronics via Simon House's VCS3's, deeper emphasis for clumsy vocals of Mike Marchant and more solid rhythmic presence from the beat of Glen Sweeney's drum set, these factors locating the music more powerfully to the rock-music context from their earlier more acoustic tonal prayers. However Paul Minns' oboe sings still its recognizable joyless song, echoing with archaic power of ancient pagan history. These familiar events blended to the electronic rhythmic approach make some songs radiate slightly similar fuzzy vibrations as Hawkwind's cosmic explorations did; as for example the weird treatments of vocals on the title track are quite powerful with their surreal appearance. The singing voice is a factor which slightly disturbed my own listening experience, fitting most suitably to recital upon atavist textures of "The Phoenix". Though the album is not a huge monolith of aural revelation for me, I believe it is still a document of honest personalities, searching their own way from these notes of the underground. If the tracks were done more on guidance of tarot cards and spliff inhaling, it is not maybe surprising that the atmosphere and individual choices will be more dominant on compositions than lengthily matured, focused musical constructions. The album booklet has a quite definite history of the group and member's interviews, some of these giving strong impact for my orientation of observing this group from the human perspective, making the music appear more powerfully as rustic history documentations of these fellows' life from the flower power days than conventional music enjoyment.