Dunlavy - The Alison Effect
(Camera Obscura)
Texas psychedelia is a multi-toed Sloth, a loping, acid-baked, sunburned creature with a rich tradition, albeit a grossly amorphous one. Heavy psyche mutated from the damaged DNA of the Houston/Austin trip scene in the latter 80's and found an able bodied carrier in Houston's The Mike Gunn, a spitting, oozing casualty of voluminous guitars and peyote soup. Burning bright and showering in a cascade of sparks, that bottle rocket burst in 1994, momentarily overturning the bong and spilling its' toxic water all over the shag carpet of a unique, grossly festering genre from the tumultuous early 90's. Just as mushrooms sprout magically from decay, the corpse of The Mike Gunn gave birth to some "wholly other" projects: the luscious feedback drift of Charalambides, Project Grimm, and a familiar frenzy of licks reminiscent of The Mike Gunn psyche/rock, a solo outfit called Dunlavy. Scott Grimm has labored away at home with his Dunlavy project, with six albums being offered via Fleece Records and the German psyche/rock stalwart September Gurls, but none so epic as his latest, The Alison Effect, on the devoted tripscape label Camera Obscura.
Joining the Dunlavy fold this go-round is former partner in crime John Cramer, making Dunlavy a duo on this outing. From the onset, lush stratospheres are charted via the winding, seeking "Woe Be to Croton", unequivocally the best track on the album. Acoustic guitar caresses begin gently, careening into corridors laden with keyboard quilts and mallet-driven percussion. The building effect is on, meandering upward, breaking periodically to explore spotlit acoustic/keyboard shots. A middle ground plateau is reached halfway through, as hovering vocal banshees beckon from a distance, encircling like vultures over dying prey, providing a halo of chants over some sun drenched landscape. This netherworldly break in the action is a nice thirst quencher for a parched mind, for the journey to the top is renewed with fervor. Ripping acid leads sear through the rubble of acoustic riffs, piling on for the last surge towards the pinnacle. A nice epic piece of homespun heady lysergic rock/prog is concluded, nearly 18 minutes later.
After having my mental chemistry entirely remapped, the ensuing "Rob Walks In" is a bit of a letdown. To be fair, it's really the vocals which provide the turn-off for me. Ill advised jaunts into melodramatic grunge-type of inflections make me turn the volume knob down, cringing, listen after listen. However, the music itself fluctuates in shifting turns of trajectory, beginning with hefty riffs and heavy psyche leads that drop into subtle puddles of cymbal washes, keyboard streaks, and clean guitar shimmers. This case could be made for the rest of The Alison Effect. "Lacerating" tosses a cozy velvet throw pillow into the corner for a brief chill-out, propelled by some unadorned guitar phrasing; "Better Than Sleep" offers some pretty great psyche wanderings, textures pulsating through various backdrops and guitar coloring changing hues, culminating with some celestial quiverings sounding like a compressed A Silver Mt. Zion. But the same cringeworthy vocals interrupt an otherwise cosmic plane to place my mind squarely in any number of Seattle's Pioneer Square bars circa 1994.
Minor squabbles with the vocals aside, bedroom heavy psyche rock rarely makes such detailed, intricate splashes as does Dunlavy. More than just Spine of God-type riff damage, The Allison Effect boasts surprising, subtle touches and unorthodox ventures which swing sharply away from any stoner rock stigmas, offering a fresh vista to stare at through bloodshot eyes. Another chapter in a fractured legacy of Lone Star lysergia. Don't mess with Texas.
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