Soft, psychedelic jams cross-dressing as easy-listening for suburban living room or luxury sedan stereo, delivered preciously so as to enhance the mood without disturbing the conversation. Doc Wör Mirran is expatriate American Joseph B. Raimond, long resident in Germany, in all his various configurations. He boasts a gigantic, profoundly varied discography, ranging from altered rock´n´roll, duo collaborations with the likeable likes of Tesendalo, and big and small scale solo and group work, as well as being an accompished visual artist. For something really big and accomplished, see his ten-CD set Ambiall.
For Technodelia he has assembled a sextet, dab hands all at noodling into a groove suitable for space age bachelors, their pads and their brown liquor dreams. Opening with a lazy cowboy gallop on ´Technodelic,´ the band slides effortlessly from the proud faux-blaxploitation funk of ´Punk´s Not Bread´ to the disco-coquettish ´Silent Noise´ without putting a single crease in the velour mood. About midway through, Technodelia settles in for two lengthy chaise-lounge body massages, a lightly martial snare announcing space rock gently cradled. A brief squall of drum´n´bass precedes ´Technodelia,´ the closing title track reprising ´Technodelic´ more xylophonily, for that long ride into the sunset, over the horizon. Cheesy is an adjective used by the jaded. Music for my kind of cool cats.
Limited to forty, one-of-a-kind art editions available only through Clockwork Tapes
Stephen Fruitman
