Much of the psychedelia of the 1960s, with its paisley prints and bright colors, may have been a threat to parents of the era, but, decades later, such “far out” tactics seem more a product of nostalgia or historical reverence than any illicit drugs. Now, as then, however, as psychedelic rock takes new forms, there are those who dive wholeheartedly into the culture of psychedelia, and those who are more apt to use it as a stylistic reference and little else. It takes more than a flanger to truly hit a psychedelic vein, and though extended, frenetic improvisation and liberal use of effects are hallmarks of what’s become the accepted genre of psychedelic rock, there exists, mainly in the underground, a collection of musicians whose music may more honestly evoke effects of the substances that inspired the movement. Having never partaken of “magical” mushrooms or their ilk, I can’t be certain, but I’d bet that there’s not much music out there that can accurately mimic the experience, but that doesn’t mean it’s all for naught. Bands like San Francisco’s Sic Alps take a modern approach to the psychedelic sound, with reverb remaining a key ingredient, and effects a routine tool, but with a sound more organic than their 60s predecessors, the final product something more roughly hewn and imperfect.
Pleasures and Treasures is Sic Apls’ full-length debut, and, at barely twenty-six minutes in duration, the album’s a brief one, with most tracks timing in at less than three minutes. The band, then a trio, recorded the material in 2005, before a change in personnel that saw the departure of Bianca Sparta and Adam Stonehouse. Twelve tracks long, the album is, compositionally, an exercise in surprisingly straightforward songwriting, with many tracks exhibiting verses and choruses. These uncomplicated song forms, however, are addled with reverb and delay, interrupted by fractured instrumental interludes, stretched and distorted, like a newspaper comic transferred to the surface of a large quantity of silly putty. Pleasures and Treasures’ songwriting, however, is something smaller, simply written and performed, the tracks manage to project a coziness that survives the music’s gauntlet of effects, an earthly anchor for music that yearns for the sky. The fidelity of the recording contributes to the generally hazy atmosphere, making the entire proceeding feel warped by the heat, and burnt crispy at the edges.
Were it left unadulterated, Pleasures and Treasures wouldn’t be much to look at (or listen to, as the case may be), but adrift amongst the effects, Mike Donovan’s songs gain new life, but never fly completely free. This tethered quality might be Sic Alps’ best, for though things get perhaps too self-consciously damaged from time to time, it’s good to see the band avoid languid improvised jamming, something far too many bands of this ilk delve into without the wherewithal to resurface, which can be a bad trip, to be sure.
