Space travelers! We're adding a new feature here which we hope to run once a month, on the last Sunday of the month, called Psychedelic Psunday. It will be a "whatever we have that doesn't fit anywhere else" type of post and we hope full of surprises for your delight and amusement.
To debut this feature we're excited to offer an outstanding LIVE show, from the Hi-Tone in Memphis,TN! The Black Hollies!
The show was taped by our good friend -Joe Holland, of Madness In Memphis, he's Memphis' Man About Town! THANK YOU JOE!
I'd seen the Black Hollies about three weeks prior to this show and was so blown away I immediately resourced their itinerary to gain a vector in which I could see them again and experience their mindblowing brand of psychedelic/mod/freabeat stylings. (There's no other way to put it: this band has an invisible timewarp gizmo which takes all who witness them back to Swingin' London, circa '66!)
There it was:June 1. Memphis. Hi-Tone. I began the search for a place to stay nearby and once having attained a room, (the Hotel is *another* story entirely!), I waited.
As I'm traveling my way southward, following the cut and crawl of the epic Missisippi River, I am unaware there's been any misfortune in the Black Hollies camp.
When we arrived at the Hi-Tone I was informed they "would indeed make it." I puzzled over that statement for a minute then queried as to why they wouldn't? "They broke down in Nuevo Mexico.., missed their shows in Austin and Dallas..." was the reply.
Damn and ZOUNDS! That would have been a disaster. (For a few of us. I was not alone in making the pilgrimage to see 'em in the heart of Stax & Sun Records country. Four others who'd attended the show in St. Louis ventured down. We drank. Much. Together.)
As we waited for the mighty paisley posse to arrive we enjoyed talking to Jonathan, owner of the Hi-Tone.Good man him. We drank. The early evening slowly gave way to oncoming night and a shift in mood as well to all inside the environs...we needed live music. Three bands. First band up finally started, though their name escapes me, (perhaps a brain cell killed whilst drinking), they were sufficient. The Bulletproof Vests took second bill and were wonderful. Their rousing, ripping version of The Fire's "Father's Name Is Dad" is seared permanently into the circuitry, rum be damned. Ha.
My compatriot & lifetime partner-in-crimes came in midway thru' their set to inform me "the Black Hollies are here!" Calloo callay! O' frabjous day! I resisted urges to man-hug 'em, en masse.
The second band now over things start to get not only hazy but palpably electric. (I now suspect that the band had indeed switched on their timewarp gizmo, housed in the van and most likely covered by what was supposed to look like discarded pizza boxes and the detritus of long journeys through the heart of darkness which is contemporary America. We are all fooled.)
The Black Hollies quickly set up and do soundcheck as part of the performance. They know their instruments & their abilities. This is a well-oiled juggernaut of freakbeat mayhem. Finest kind says I.
Join me now Voyagers, take that trip. Feel the pure power of one of the finest bands in this or any other land. (And, besides their own potent material, they treat us to brilliant covers of The Young Rascals "You Better Run" & The Yardbirds "Lost Woman".)