Wandering around St. Marks last night with nothing much to do, but nursing a compulsion to just go...somewhere...I had the misfortune of spotting someone from my recent past. That event triggered another memory. About two years ago when I was working in Manhattan, I had become a host to a molecular dignitary. And as all hosts, I had to show this visiting dignitary the sights of New York. Regretfully the transfer is never easy on the host and symptoms not unlike influenza ensue. There I was hoping to show the sights of my beloved city, but I was unable to function...and at the same time I was starting a new job.
My guest understood and promised me that it would leave as soon as transfer was possible. For the sake of learning forgotten and black listed knowledge one suffers, and I did. Chills, excessive body mucus, aches, all forms of indignities. I had a new job to do - beside still housing the dignitary, so the option of sitting out and staying home could not be done.
While making my way home early one afternoon, I passed through Union Square. My guest was amazed at the upright growth of our plants. Regretfully this was in the winter so it would miss the flowering. I'm not exactly sure if the dignitary would understand the concept of flowering plants. I had once visited where it was from. It is a world of fungoid dominance and murky sky's. Just the way some places in the universe are. At the far end of the park facing the then Virgin Megastore was a group of easily 30 young people having a pillow fight. My host apologized for now the induction of hallucinations and once again stressed to his transfer point the necessity of his departure. Even I wasn't too sure if what was unfolding before me was really there - but when a feather landed gently on my jacket sleeve and I could pick it up, we both realized that this was indeed real. We stood there watching a joyful outburst of levity. Keep in mind that this was in the waning days of the Bush/Cheney administration, so at some point the pressure valve was going to blow. This is a phenomenon noted before, if you'll refer to Artaud's (1846-1948) essay on theater during plague, you will get a much more detailed explanation.In one of the much treasured moments of synchronicity, the overstuffed feather pillows flew through the air in acts of soft edged aggression. In my iPod headphones played Caravan's second LP "if i could do it all over again, i'd do it all over you". Perfectly complimenting the heavy slow motion swings of the pillows was the laid back intensity that Caravan is noted for. While it is true that Caravan share too many similarities with The Soft Machine, from the near identical vocals between Wyatt and Sinclair and use of overamped Lowery organ, these are the same similarities that like species share. Lemurs and Chimpanzees are both primates, but there is that one or two things that keep them from being confused for each other in the dark. Caravans saving grace is their song form. While the Soft's were more adventurous in playing amorphous compositions that bordered on jazz, Caravan's strength was pop songs stretched out without sounding forced. This is best served by their ability to play slowly without sounding like they are plodding along. I must admit that I do not know much of the Caravan catalog - having only also the first and third lps, so I'm not sure if this style of playing holds out. The first record released on Verve is second tier psychedelia and had turned me off to the band, and the third record the lyrics get too close to Hobbitville for my liking but the fantastic playing over shadows.
Please click on the review title for the selected track: With An Ear To The Ground You Can Make It / Martinian / Only Cox / Reprise
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