Bakelite Age, The - Flytrap (Album)
It’s only taken me a few light years but I’ve finally caught onto The Bakelite Age.
By name they might refer to that fan-plastic era of when electric cooking was still a bit new or when rock and roll permanently wore a suit and tie, and most of us have heard ‘other project’ The Meanies, but what do these guys sound like?
The answer is: melodic, neurotic, psychedelic, hypnotic and um… quixotic? Sometimes, although less head banging and more hip swinging means when they do evoke all the above at once it’s still reasonably accessible. Your mum will still hate it though. If anyone remembers the English band XTC, The Bakelite Age sounds almost like XTC on PCP. Whether you’re an erstwhile Bakelite fan or you’ve been hiding with me over there under yonder rock, either way you ought not to leave here disappointed.
Often cited as “Link’s other band” this too is a four-piece including singer / songwriter / guitarist Lindsay ‘Link’ McLennan along with fellow guitarist Kiernan Clancy, one-time Arrosa bassist Fiona Ely and most recently acquired Lochie Cavigan on drums. Having been around for about eight years now, these latest 34 minutes of well measured mayhem make it album number five.
The first half sounds like a soundtrack to the search for a lost sock; such is its random skew-riffery, which turns up some little gems in unexpected places. I Can Make Fire is a fairly strong opener and the third track A Childish Problem an instant winner, while Flytrap is two minutes of garage rock frenzy.
The second half is slightly more coherent, or perhaps we’ve just become more accustomed by then, but it’s on track 7, Quasiman, where the listener is unintentionally reminded of Link’s relation to brother Ross, formerly of Snout, due to the song’s playfully retro Snout-like groove. Meanwhile, old fans (literally) of The Meanies should skate over to tracks 9 and 10 entitled Flatline and Def Con 1 and carry on and up from there. The latter is sadly not a cover of the PWEI classic, nor does it need be thanks to its own crunchy goodness, making it one of the album’s simplest highlights.
Lyrical content ranges from venomous critters to musical observations to primal urgency, lots of primal urgency. Meanwhile Link’s audio production sees pretty much everything as it should be for the seminal standard guitars / bass / drums lineup; all dirt and punch in a well tuned, fairly modest mix and 99% gimmick-free; while the artwork (also by Link) is effective enough, although an exercise in restraint by his standards.
Simplicity appears to be the rule here, even in the more spaced out / forked up moments. Whatever, it all works fine. It might take a while longer, but one of these days we might even refer to “Link’s other band” as The Meanies!
