AKASHA

Groovy man!! This is some of that sticky icky stuff, although handed over in a quite recognisable setting. No mirages here people! Most times, when I recommend albums that are groovy and psychedelic, they tend to be roaring wild and completely gone fishing, - yet with this Norwegian outing, you get something that relies just as much on symphonic sweeps of breezy music - to the simmering Germanic electronics that infested most of the Krautrock scene all through the 70s.

Released in 1977, this album sure sounds out of touch with the surrounding music scene. As John points out in his review, you really get the feel of a late sixties album here. Ok, there's far more happening on the progressive front - meaning that you get your fair share of turnovers and quirky meddlesome pieces slicing their way into the midst of things. Every track here hides something ethereal, hard rocking or even b-b-b-bibbedi-bubbly with sneaky old school almost Berliner school electronics dating back to a time of sabre-toothed tigers and early synthesizers running on coal and small children.

I keep thinking King Crimson for some reason, and perhaps that is not such a bad reference after all. In fact, if you can imagine the legendary In the Court of the Crimson King handed over in a looser and slightly more esoteric dressing, then you're just about halfway there. The innovative usage of mellotron that Fripp conjured up roams freely on this release - it's icy, lofty and damn near omnipresent throughout. Working like a constant flow of autumnal power - a way of supporting what all the other instruments are doing in a delicate and airy manner. Add to that, those drums remind me of Michael Giles - you know that jazzy wooden feel that counters everything around it, while at the same time relegating a natural rhythm train, which is tight as hell.

This is indeed an album worthy of all the symphonic fans' attention. The textures are huge like mighty ghost-like statures towering high above the other side of the coin here, which flutters around on the ground like a swarm of bewildered bees. Yes, I'm referring to the synths here, although they aren't as in your face as you'd imagine from my opening statement. They dwell at the bottom end of the sea, albeit for the soloing moog that gets carte blanche whenever the music calls for a secondary sweet spot other than the be-winged guitars. -Either rocking the house with fat hard riffage or bursting out in cathartic solos, they do match the music perfectly.

Reading this review back, one could quickly come to a 4 star conclusion, yet there's one thing holding me back - keeping me from an adoration big as the African continent. Vocals. Rightly described as a Scandinavian mirroring of Greg Lake - they circle around the passionate immersion. A way of launching oneself into the lyrical segments like a flaming arrow. Though much to my disappointment, they reek of Scandinavian accent, and that's just about the most awful coating you could ever wish to present the English language in. Big mistake - and sadly the sole reason for the 3.5 stars.

Even so, I strongly recommend this album to fans of early King Crimson, Procol Harum, Moody Blues, Spring, Cressida and Eloy. The music here is nothing short of stunningly beautiful. Buttered up butterflies.

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