“Porpoise Mouth” is my pick from the LP | Country Joe And The Fish – ‘Electric Music For Mind And Body’ (Vanguard VRS-9244) May 1967
Article published in Crawdaddy!, August 1967
Country Joe And The Fish | Electric Music For Mind And Body | (Vanguard) 1967 | When the Country Joe album arrived at the Crawdaddy! office, it was immediately inscribed “This record is to be played on special occasions only,” and certain factions suggested that it would be in poor taste to even review such a sacred work.
Sacred or not, this album does seem distantly removed from anything that has been previously associated with rock and roll. Indeed, the staunchest hard rock supporter on our staff can find no redeeming musical value in it at all. He’s wrong, of course; or, to be more accurate, he’s somewhere else. For many people, this album is so exactly where we are it’s frightening. To be played on special occasions, only.
Words should be applied to this album with extreme caution. Like a kaleidoscope, it’s easy not to appreciate – all you have to do is stare at the toy instead of into it – but if you do dig it, you may suddenly find it very hard to decide which of the sliding multi-coloured worlds all around you is your own.
Country Joe And The Fish | Electric Music For Mind And Body | (Vanguard) 1967
It’s perfectly fair of me to especially dig “Flying High” because I’m a long-time hitchhiker; but when I decide that “Section 43” is without question a midsummer thundershower and then realize that the storm is outside the window and not in my head, perhaps I’m too involved in the music.
Background music is an old concept; this album, at last, is in the foreground. It is Joe MacDonald’s world, and you are invited in. Does it seem strange that the introduction to “Flying High” has nothing to do with the song, or that Lorraine’s first name is really Martha? Not at all – remember we are guests here.
This is Berkeley 1967, Fish Street, residence of Country Joe – we are invited to see, hear, feel, smell, but not participate. “Grace”— that’s not a singalong. This is music at its most sensuous, and least analyzable – sounds, unidentifiable, flash at you, words evoke pictures but no meaning, you never hear the same thing twice. But you always feel the state of grace.
Schizophrenic lead guitar
“Death Sound” (“I see the minutes chasin’ the hours”),that homicidal tambourine, schizophrenic lead guitars. It’s all in the impact; if it doesn’t scare you I can’t talk you into fright.
“Section 43” – simply the most satisfying, evocative piece of music I know; I could wander its paths forever. It’s a concert performance – no individual virtuosity can be found and praised; each person did his job precisely and flawlessly, up to and especially the feedback and few tinkling notes at the end.
The brilliance is in the composition and in a subtle way we should consider this whole LP a composed rather than a performed work, because every note seems to have been firmly in place in every song long before the actual recording of the album.
On “Love,” a mistake is met with “Aw come on,” as if nothing could be more ridiculous at this point than doing something wrong. Indeed, a perfect Fish album: it had to be this way.
Country Joe And The Fish | Electric Music For Mind And Body | (Vanguard) 1967
“Masked Marauder” is utterly delightful; instant movie soundtrack for whatever is going on around you. (Theme music, not background stuff.) “Superbird” would be instant #1 if radio stations weren’t so sensitive. It’s the only rock ‘n’ roll song on the album, and of course it’s perfect. “Drop your guns, baby . . . .” Wow!
Everything on the album is one-of-a-kind, as a matter of fact ; like Sergeant Pepper, the only thing linking these songs is that they like to be heard together. “Sad & Lonely Times” is a ballad, very simple, very warm – pretty.
“Not So Sweet Martha Lorraine” is a totally different type of ballad: Berkeley Gothick, cynical, respectful, overpowering. Even affectionate: few people who’ve heard this album could really describe this song, but every one of them could describe Lorraine. And though every description would be different, each would be thoroughly respectful, thoroughly correct. David Cohen (organist) is magnificent.
And “Bass Strings” is the invocation of the Muse. “Hey, partner, won’t you pass that reefer round? . . . I think I’ll go to the desert . . . just one more trip now, and I know I’ll stay high all the time.” If you want to understand the Bay Area, “Bass Strings” will give you a fair start.
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