Devil’s Rumble

Allan and the Arrows also recorded a handful of non-soundtrack LPs and singles for the Sidewalk label, a division of Tower Records owned by his high school pal Mike Curb (now the head of Curb Records). A series of bad breaks and shady business dealings have kept those albums off the market since their release in the late ‘60s, and the multiple cuts included here should make this comp priceless to retro garage fans and collector types. Chief among the treasures is “Cycle-delic,” a breathtaking six-minute feedback firestorm that shows just how far Allan was above his garage brethren. But if you’re not convinced, play both discs of Devil’s Rumble in sequential order, and listen carefully – you’ll hear Allan develop from nimble-fingered interpreter of pop-styled instro hits (Travis Wammack’s “Scratchy,” the warhorse “Apache”) to a player who’s found his secret weapon and wields it with deadly accuracy (“The Devil’s Rumble,” which gives a nod to his idol, Link Wray), and finally, a veteran pit fighter who can devastate his opponents with a staggering array of sonic haymakers (the STP-soaked “Mind Transferral”). It’s a staggering progression in ability and vision – the tracks here cover only a four-year period – and had Davie been given the label support he deserved, he’d probably be mentioned in the same breath as Clapton, Hendrix, Page and other period guitar gods. As it stands, having the best of his recorded output in a typically superior package from reissue masters Sundazed is a decent compromise.

And lest you think that Davie Allan is languishing in obscurity somewhere in the San Fernando Valley – well, forget it. He continues to lop off younger heads with his jaw-dropping live show, and sporadically releases albums on a variety of labels that showcase his heavier, almost metallic current sound. Restless in L.A. (also on Sundazed) is the latest from 21st Century Davie, and it’s also probably his best since his sort-of comeback in the early ‘90s. His guitarwork is denser here than on his previous releases or even his ‘60s work – there’s not a lot of light in Davie’s playing, but it remains remarkably supple, and the textures he wrings out retain the VistaVision scope of his best work. Check out the Morricone tribute on “The Loud, the Loose and the Savage” or the ‘70s AM grit-funk of “Wicked Woman” for proof – but what fans really want to hear is Davie Allan set city blocks on fire with his guitar, and he puts forth some serious redevelopment throughout the disc, especially on the opener, “The Toxic Terror,” and “Demente,” which lays down a mighty challenge at the feet of those G3 cats. It’s appropriate, however, that the most Arrow-delic moment on the disc comes with “Energized,” which charges out of the gate, juiced on sonic steroids, and proceeds to tear the house down. Must be how Davie’s feeling these days.