Uncle Max’s Cosmic Band Licking the Toad in the Black Church
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Biker metal warrior Alex Mitchell follows up the stellar black leather beat-poet swagger blues rekkid “Plastic Gator Machine” with another slab of meaty 4 track mayhem. “Uncle Max’s Cosmic Band” (named after Alex’s fave trailer park romeo unk) is a loose and lethal gathering of some o’ Mr. Mitchell’s bossest buddies (Fred Mett on bass, John Bush on drums and Billy Tsounis on axe grindin’), and the awesomely named “Licking the Toad in the Black Church” is their first dose of dirty gospel.

This ‘un is probably the most experimental- and certainly the most acid-fried – project Mitchell’s been involved in, and half the time, you really do feel like yr ridin’ your whacked-out uncle’s greasy wave of weirdness. Dig the dizzy, Farfisa-blowing paisley fuzz of opener “Sweet Teenage Fascination” and the Dracula surfpunk of “Gasoline Rainbows” for the puzzling evidence. But you know, sooner or later, Mitchell is gonna muscle up and bang out a few Circus of Power-ful tracks, and there’s a whole mess of revved-up motor rock tunage here – “Magik Machine” chases a bleating Deep Purple organ with ropy COP riffs like a drunken cowboy lassoing a panicked calf, “James Brown Band” is pure powerblues raunch, “Guilty By Suspicion” is a thundertrain of acid-metal chug, and best, or maybe beast of all, closer “Green River Death Boogie” sounds exactly like it’s title suggests- 5 minutes of psyche-blues-metal menace fulla tribal drums and space-case keyboards and a filthy arena rock mega-riff. Utterly manly, and totally fuckin’ RAWK, man.

It’s not all wild beast throb, tho. There’s breezy spoken-word bits and wallops of speed metal and hallucinatory calliope rides here, too. It’s obvious that Mitchell and Co. had no agenda for “Licking the Toad” but to freak freely and unloose a cartoon demon or two. As such, the production is strictly garage mud, but big deal. Just means ya gotta play it louder. If you’ve ever wondered what it would sound like if crazy-ass Roky Erickson ran away from the group home and joined a fire-breathing outlaw biker gang, then ponder no more, spaceman, cuz this is pretty much what it would sound like.
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