Gris Gris and the Psychedelic Teat.

posted Friday Jun 23rd, 2006

The kaleidoscopic mind flush of Oakland California’s Gris Gris is something you may never really get over. Front man and keg stand enthusiast, Greg Ashley, writes songs that bleed into the cortex of the soul. They’ve got a timeless quality, and at the same time pay homage to an era he missed. While Roky Erickson, and Syd Barrett may have been sucking on their respective bongs, Greg Ashley had yet to suckle his mother’s teat and further, most likely wasn’t even an expectation of hers quite yet. Why should such an intangible and archaic concept such as time, get in the way of producing good classic sounding rock’n’roll songs anyhoo? Thankfully though, it doesn’t. Every once in while, someone comes along, like Greg Ashley and retraces the steps of artists who came before him and somehow comes back with something everyone else missed. The Gris Gris sound like 13th Floor Elevators minus the Electric jug, plus a big glass of bourbon and say, a little modern apathy. I mean here we are forty years down the road from the advent of psychedelic music and our throats are too sore from saying, “fuck the system,” especially when “the system” mainly is comprised of the very burlap-clad tools that were opposed to it in the first place. So fuck it, right?
This follow-up to the “For the Season” LP, which came out earlier this year on Birdman Records, includes 4 songs not available on the CD/LP. The songs wind through a mind emptying folk-blues rattle called "Won't be Long," to a Kinks-y sounding strummer called "Bakery." and "Corporation Station Agent," an acoustic communal pow wow with weird mind bending harmonies. You can hear the fourth song, an acoustic version of "Pick Up Your Raygun"here.
Flush your mind down the tie-dyed toilet and watch this video by The Opium Tea Company (available for download!) from Birdman Record's website.