“California Calling”
c. 2013 Rod Ice
All rights reserved
(5-13)
Regular readers of this
column will be familiar with my personal connection to legendary California
guitarist Davie Allan. We have had a long-distance friendship since the late
90’s.
As a kid, I was greatly
enthralled by Allan’s work with The Arrows, which appeared in many movie
soundtracks during the 1960’s, including the cinema classic “The Wild Angels”
with Peter Fonda and Nancy Sinatra.
By participating in
Allan’s fan group on Yahoo! I encountered perhaps his most devoted follower –
Boobie Auten. This prolific philosopher and pundit has made visits to the forum
entertaining for many years.
Auten’s
stream-of-consciousness poetry and comment are very reminiscent of “Beat Era”
hero Allen Ginsberg. I have often marveled at how easily his words seem to
appear on the page.
A few years ago, I decided
to try tapping in to this sort of free-flowing prose, inspired by a new Davie
Allan recording. Thereafter, I have written a “First Impressions” review of
each new album with genuine excitement.
What follows here is my
primal reaction to Allan’s latest work:
RETROPHONIC 4 – First Impressions
Dark Of The Night - Into the dark, riding Noah’s Ark on a crashing sea of tonality.
Reverb waves, King Fuzz saves, get on board if you want to greet the day. The
moody monarch has somethin’ to say.
Don’t Blame Duane – A dirge at dusk. A dance into oblivion. My song is done. Old warriors
bow, the battle is won. Kiss the sunset, just for fun.
Here It Comes –
Brassy, sassy, melodic grunge. A movie soundtrack from 1971. Who remembers? You
do, hoodoo. Neck is old, strings are new.
Run Of The Arrow – Tip of the spear, the six-string shaman is here. Run wild and free
over the fanciful fretboard, melodically. Echo bend, don’t make me say it
again. The fleeing brave is my friend.
Stick It Again
– Up in the morning, guitar licks without warning. Tonal fire, gonna raise your
ire. You weren’t prepared? Don’t be scared. The best time of day is before the
sandman goes away.
Cara Mia – A
ballad of eternal love. Jazzmaster sings with grace from above. Hear my plea,
Our Lady of the Overdrive Scream. This prayer is for thee. Let your people go
free.
War Path –
Fleet of fret, we can never forget. The clever plan wins this bet. Come, ye
faithful to the fuzz. Drink and dance, you’ve had enough. Our ride is rough.
But the trail winds toward sterner stuff. You need not fear. Daybreak is here.
Introspective
– Lookin’ inside in the midst of a cosmic ride. A backward glance, a second
chance. A bit of romance. Ants in your pants.
Apache Junction
– Native fire, a stealthy coppersmith with his lyre. Strings bursting with
heat, blood on the street. Feel the 4/4 beat. You’re the kind of fool I
wouldn’t want to meet.
Los Cabos –
How many trips across these weathered lips. I say your name and so begins the
game. Look hard in the mirror, your face is the same.
Lullaby Of The Leaves – Venture onward to no-man’s land. A plectrum shooter
in my hand. I am the one, my song is sung. Hear the mournful strum from the
guitar beach bum.
Recycled Too
– Hot exhaust pipes break the night. Rapping with spitting breaths of
firelight. Work the gearbox, give a pledge to naught. Everything’s gonna be
alright.
Return Of The 7th Cavalry – Marching soldiers, horses, and more. Sabers drawn,
we go to war.
Chord kick, our melodic
trip. Crest the hill, our battle is quick.
Cycletherapy
– Backwards mask, tones to the task. A friendly flask. Join the hippie fest,
words said in jest. Come on in, man, you can be my guest.
Flashback ’36
– Kickstart ride on the other side. A tale of those who lived and died. Crazy
dreams that others tried. Failure I will not abide. The negative is nullified.
Fuzination –
Rip and rock, a spaceship at the dock. Steel strings squawk. My key fits your
lock. Nose cone to the stars, jamming out in biker bars. My soul is alive. Let
me take you on a slow ride.
Bedlam – A
prayer and a promise. Devil, you are finished with us. We ride into the sunset.
Our names you will never forget. On the boulevard of dreams, nothing is what it
seems. Alone, we run. This day of decision is done.
Ghost Riders In The Sky – Song to the sunset. Song to be sung. Hear me now,
maiden, I am the only one. Hoofbeats and backstreets. Look out, here I come.
Shape Of Things To Come – Sonic boom splits the room. Tomorrow is today. I
ride at sunset. The darkness is my day. Glory is a tease, feel the breeze. This
life has gone astray.
Think It Over
– A bit of Buddy with lots of love. Remembering a hero who slipped above. An
anthem of the lonely heart. Too soon my friend did you depart.
Glory Stompers -
Sidewalk stompin’ with the angry breed. Rebels in need. The demon seed. Our
path is clear, though doppelgangers appear. Be they far or near, the glory gang
is here.
Oh Buddy, We Miss You So – Ode to a hero lost. A sweet spirit surrendered to
naught. Voice and style on the miracle mile. Forever free, you are still with
me.
Rip It Up –
A classic vibe from the other side. When Rock & Roll felt good inside. No
shame, no greed, just Little Richard on the keys. Give me the disease. It’s
what I need.
Neon Lights
– Radio rebel rockin’ the open road. Wheels spin and I am all alone. But there
is a voice on the telephone. Hello, baby, I am comin’ home.
Comments about Thoughts At Large may be sent to:
icewritesforyou@gmail.com
Visit us at: www.thoughtsatlarge.com