Having made all these proposals and comparisons, in fact this group of three Mexicans and one Frenchmen would likely refuse any form of musical categorisation, especially two labels which others have thrown at them to wit Krautrock / Kosmische and New Weird America, in the form of No-Neck Blues Band and other such overly-ritualistic improvising groups. Instead, they simply regard music as a “magical” action, claiming in their own words that “we rise to draw from the sources of the cosmic Grand Souk”, indicating I suppose that they don’t over-think it or analyse their performances, preferring to simply play. While this LP might be regarded as a concession to “conventional” rock music by this otherwise far-out label, on the contrary we find in these recordings the same concerns with pure sound production and an unvarnished honesty which exactly matches other releases in the (admittedly small) catalogue of L’Eau Des Fleurs. What I particularly like is the unaffected, simple approach of Los Lichis; here are genuine players who don’t care to puff themselves up with ambitious grand designs, utter pretentious or incomprehensible statements, strike poses, nor set themselves high-minded targets on which they cannot deliver. The plain, unadorned nature of the recordings – almost DIY in their lo-fi starkness – are all part of the charm and the aesthetic.

Given their occasional meanders into lysergic turf here and there, one is tempted to liken them to The Grateful Dead (around the time of Anthem Of The Sun), only without the bombast and without the slickness. Issued with a full-colour booklet insert containing some incredible images, paintings, and collages. Excellent. From 20 Feb 2024.

Well, he’s not averse to making sounds either – and here as Z.B. Aids he turns in a collection of his far-out experiments using just a guitar and a Walkman, so results are mostly degraded guitar sounds combined with a very singular approach to improvisation and free playing, and (I assume) crazy treatments of magnetic tape. This particular genius commands our respect for his deep underground credentials – few know about him or his work, even his supporters and friends – and despite art exhibits, art books (see above) and a record like this one, it is highly unlikely that the raw unrefined art of Hengray will ever reach the hungry audience it deserves. Or any audience at all, given current international trends intent on snuffing out art in all its forms, and replacing it with ersatz, meaningless pap. Michel Henritzi sums up the achievement of this great man in a single word – “alienation” – and remarks on his “aesthetic of disappointment and entropy”, qualities which are particularly to be savoured in today’s world of bland smiling faces, unearned positivity, and expectations of high-achievement.

If we can believe the testimony of the creator himself, his sole ambition is to be an outsider – abstract himself from society completely, live alone in the woods, make grotesque sculptures out of wood for his own satisfaction, and even recklessly fire bullets at inanimate objects in an act of nihilistic elan which aligns him with the Surrealists. But it seems the culture, the environment, and the circumstances are unwilling or unable to vomit out this anomalous growth in their midst, and so he operates in this very exciting interstitial zone striving hard to produce what he may and issue such statements as can be wrung from the neck and strings of his long-suffering guitar machine. I myself have never heard anything like this LP – ten tracks of unclassifiable outpourings, whose sincerity and deep truths cannot be doubted, yet will be rejected instantly by many listeners who fear its awkward, ungainly, ugly forms, shunning it just as they once shunned Quasimodo. I can only suggest you grasp a copy, rub your belly against the ‘Glauque Flamboyant’ and prepare for a lifetime of warped brain-damage and tormented dreams, but you’ll be all the better for it.

Limited to 150 copies and still in print at time of writing, with a poster included. Recommended; a truly unique statement from the DIY deep underground. From 20 Feb 2024.

Now and again it’s my pleasure to chat about some real outsider music from people who leave albums and EPs at record shops like Aquarius Records as if these were abandoned waifs in search of a good home. Such a foundling is Fastest’s “Theme” album and very individual and eccentric it is too, like that Keuhkot album I reviewed some years ago, with an eclectic array of influences and styles informing each and every song. The title track sets the tone for the other ten songs: quirky yet smooth synth melodies embellished with sometimes jerky and always unusual rhythm loops, the lot punctuated by breaks in the music or unexpected changes of key and all featuring a whispery hushed spoken vocal. Something akin to tropicalia ambience is often present.

Electroacoustic effects, ambient field recordings, synth pop melodies, some almost funky rhythms, a faint bluesy tinge and that smoky spoken vocal reminiscent of Keuhkot’s voice at times (though never haranguing like the Finn) combine to create a very singular record indeed. Individual songs are not very distinctive but together might form a unique point of view on aspects of life. The outlook seems sane and matter-of-fact, maybe a bit too much so: there are hardly any emotional ups and downs here and if you had to compare this album to a ride at Luna Park, it’d be more akin to the Ferris wheel ride than to the latest rollercoaster. Later tracks seem darker and more serious than earlier songs but that’s about the extent of linear progress in the album.

An interesting album of out-there melodic pop pastiche crying out for a good home and promising a fair amount of joy for would-be adoptive music collectors.

Contact: Aquarius Records