A Reverse Age

by GR (Aka GRegory Raimo)

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about

Released 10/30/12 on Mexican Summer
750 numbered vinyls lp

Band Members :

GR (aka GRegory Raimo) : All instruments
Guitar-Hoodoo
Liquid Bass
Spiral Drums
Preach In The Middle

Tracklisting :

(Access I)
I. Low-Born
II. Vapours Invisible
III. A Reverse Age
IV. Hymn Of Pan

(Access II)
I. Spectre Of The Brocken
II. Bradtënehend
III. The Primitive Hoodoo
IV. Action Vision

* All Tracks By Gregory Raimo
* Tapes/Recording/Mix : Gregory Raimo
*Poetry On Hymn Of Pan By Percy Bysshe Shelley

Total Time : 38mn

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LINER NOTES:
Here we have the age-old argument between myth and reality. In some circumstances, you can live the myth, make it your reality, and go on about your day as if nothing had happened. This sort of myth-making occurs with a nagging frequency throughout all walks of life. You can do something to help a person in need, or you can choose to walk away and leave them to their life and you to yours. You can go to a rock concert and see some band touting the phrase “psychedelic” and it’s some lame bunch of business hippies, hard at work shaking tambourines and dripping with the sweat of dishonesty, trying to blow your mind with a flange pedal and three really edgy chords you’ve heard somewhere else. Or you can straight up go home, slap on this GR album A Reverse Age, and have your eardrums and retinas scorched with the synesthesia of a blinding reality, the grain of truth in a vat of lies, the square peg.

Truth comes today from France’s Gregory Raimo, once again taking up the mantle of the performance moniker, GR. Raimo has been shredding with ingenious ferocity for a number of years now, both alone and as guitarist/vocalist for Gunslingers, a power trio fortified by his relentless barrage of guitar noise and rhythmic imperative (check their 2008 LP No More Invention if you’re interested in having the skin flayed off your back this week). A Reverse Age is Raimo’s third and most intense solo album, following a collaborative EP with Michael Yonkers. Those of you in the know will hear Yonkers’ late ‘60s period influence, whether it be myth or reality (only the artist is telling), as you might also find the strange, hissing atmosphere of Alien Soundtracks-era Chrome or the psychic limbering-up of The Magic Band evident in GR’s music.

Real, productive damage comes from within, however, and that’s where A Reverse Age performs its miracles. It figures that you would need to go back 30 to 40 years in the history of underground or fringe music to find any sort of precedent to the eight songs of A Reverse Age. Its restless nature highlights Raimo’s frantic compositional structures and explosive playing across guitar, bass and drums alike, the product of one guy with real vision and the skills to pull off a work of virtuosic hostility such as this one. Riffs sizzle and burn up, pushed through effects that somehow cheapen lesser works yet bolster this one. Things you know – eldritch forest folk, roadhouse blues, aggressive jazz-style drumming – are distended near to the point where they become part of GR’s own musical syllabus, grounded by GR’s street-corner vocal hustle, sounding like Armand Schaubroeck rapping into a CB radio in a stolen car, out joyriding and knocking off side view mirrors. Every last moment on A Reverse Age was engineered to do damage, and it does so in the impossible confines of reality, an assaultive and merciless run through the uncleared brush, screaming and bleeding with contact from nature. This is music that truly does not lets up until the record spins to a close, designed by and for travelers who subscribe to the higher mind, and know the promise that, properly tended, such an organ can reveal. This is the reality of the psychedelic experience, folded up and fallen out of a dog-eared copy of TiKHAL, the truth that blots out the sun’s myth-making ways and externally-damaging rays. Check this out with pure intentions, and we’ll see you a few months from now, unshaven and beaming like a god.

— Written By Doug Mosurock

credits

released October 30, 2012

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GR (Aka GRegory Raimo) France

I walked with Gregory Raimo in the alley-ways of circumstance.
From the gate it seemed strangely dream- like.
On this trail of shadows he never walks alone.

The crocodile guardians of the outer mind sway quietly to all this in the zombie realm. G.R. will lead the way when following finds a slow day.

Follow this when you are alive in this time.

_Billy Miller (Cold Sun/The Aliens)
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Track Name: Low-Born
LOW-BORN

There’s not a face within miles,
Only Compressed figures pale
N’ liquors Brown runnin’ the Deep ;

N’-an oblique fire’s at the wood,
Scapegoats & Furies over the down
N’ a woodman in the distant vale ;

N’ you were low-born in the city—
This makes ya wanna spit some oil
With ah headlong force on the bitumen,

N’ when ya just think your lips are still,
That you’ve all sucked your bloody fill—
Nothin’ is to cool ya but thinking aloud.

Whenever ya been in a mess
Rollin’ down a Nation Dead,
You man rule a voice in a Land—

Whenever ya been in a mess
Rollin’ down a Nation Dead,
You man rule a voice in a Land ;

N’ you were low-born in the city—
This makes ya wanna spit some oil
With ah headlong force on the bitumen.

_Lyrics By GRegory Raimo
Track Name: A Reverse Age
A REVERSE AGE

Aaaahh people get in the streets
N’ talk wild over the rainbow
— their long time long-coloured-haired Priest & Brother ;
Uniforms & Pigs surround
The Denizens of Change
With shotguns & injurries,
The cops beat the hell out of Bearded Men
N’ Freaks on Main Street Blacktop,
The city’s into the hands of Rush
Like an ol’ fuckin’ trap,
An ol’ fuckin’ trap ;
Every paving block now bears lawbreaking marks
By reason of State Control hhuuu.

Aaaahh people won’t turn away
From what’s theirs & set their mind free,
N’ young Rockers raise the old ones’ flaming voice ;
Overthrow on their back they carry
— The Denizens of Change —
N’ plug guitars into a riot
N’ rally for an assault of smoking oversaturated racket,
Oversaturated racket,
N’ bring back the city straight to Instinct
— By an ol’ fuckin’ Trick,
An ol’ fuckin’ Trick ;
Every paving block now bears powerful marks
By reason of Rebirth.

_Lyrics By GRegory Raimo
Track Name: Hymn Of Pan
Hymn of Pan
By Percy Bysshe Shelley

I

From the forests and highlands
We come, we come;
From the river-girt islands,
Where loud waves are dumb
Listening to my sweet pipings.
The wind in the reeds and the rushes,
The bees on the bells of thyme,
The birds on the myrtle bushes,
The cicale above in the lime,
And the lizards below in the grass,
Were as silent as ever old Tmolus was,
Listening to my sweet pipings.

II

Liquid Peneus was flowing,
And all dark Tempe lay
In Pelion's shadow, outgrowing
The light of the dying day,
Speeded by my sweet pipings.
The Sileni, and Sylvans, and Fauns,
And the Nymphs of the woods and the waves,
To the edge of the moist river-lawns,
And the brink of the dewy caves,
And all that did then attend and follow,
Were silent with love, as you now, Apollo,
With envy of my sweet pipings.

III

I sang of the dancing stars,
I sang of the daedal Earth,
And of Heaven — and the giant wars,
And Love, and Death, and Birth,—
And then I changed my pipings, —
Singing how down the vale of Maenalus
I pursued a maiden and clasped a reed.
Gods and men, we are all deluded thus!
It breaks in our bosom and then we bleed :
All wept, as I think both ye now would,
If envy or age had not frozen your blood,
At the sorrow of my sweet pipings.