Rolling Stone August 31, 2000
"Last Days of May have the hipness thing sewn up: a name taken
from a Blue Oyster Cult song; a celebrity ax wrangler in Karl
Precoda, the founding lead guitarist of the Dream Syndicate. Last
Days are also an instrumental combo of empathic ferocity, making
a regal shape-shifting noise on Radiant Black Mind that
is a singular digestion of electric Miles Davis, the first Stooges
album and, in Precoda's molten reveries, both John Coltrane's
tenor sax and Lou Reed's free-guitar shriek. In all, a most luxurious
and inspired bedlam."-David Fricke
Phoenix New Times February 20, 2000
"Time for a Jimi Hendrix moment.
Imagine, for just a minute, that you're shuffling around on a
Manhattan sidewalk outside the Fillmore East one late December
1969 afternoon. Longhaired, pock-faced roadies have been rolling
gear into the legendary venue for a couple of hours, and you notice
that a pair of them who've just cut out and down the alley for
a smoke break accidentally left a side door ajar. Naturally, you
seize the opportunity and slip in. Wandering down a corridor,
you abruptly turn, push through a thick red velvet curtain, and
suddenly there you are standing stage right, jaw slowly dropping
below your knees: No less than 20 feet away is the Band of Gypsies,
jamming in all its pre-concert glory, oblivious not only to your
presence but to just about everything else in this otherwise busy
intersection of roadies, lighting techs, sound men, concession
vendors, etc.
Sadly, this review is no Lewis Shiner novel; you can't go back
in time to witness the great rock stars in all their unadorned
private candor. But you can go out and snap up Radiant Black
Mind, the second album from Virginia's Last Days of May. Led
by none other than guitar icon-in-exile Karl Precoda, the original
ax mastermind of the late, great Dream Syndicate who bailed midway
through the group's tenure and basically disappeared, LDOM makes
a freeform, feedback/wah-wah/echoplex-drenched squall the likes
of which haven't been heard since the heyday of St. Jimi &
Co.
Okay, maybe there have been other groups over the past three decades
to set their controls for the heart of the native son; surely
a legion of fretmasters, some inspired and soulful (Stevie Ray
Vaughan) and some technically perfect but starched (Steve Vai),
have traipsed across this musical landscape with regularity. But
Precoda, for anyone who witnessed firsthand his particular brand
of nuclear fission back in the day, always "got" Hendrix from
a different angle, grasping how the man played the spaces between
the notes. This intuitive, almost primitive approach continues
with LDOM, and if you're a fan of interstellar jamming, this note's
for you, bub.
Radiant Black Mind is, like its 1997 predecessor, Last
Days of May, an instrumental live album that runs for 46 minutes.
In that three-quarters of an hour, you're confronted with a daunting
array of devices: white-hot sheets of noise, serene strokes of
aquatic melodies, minimalist chordal plucks and harmonic tings,
welling-up-from-Hades explosions of pure rawk abandon. As with
most "psychedelic instrumental" compositions, the renderings can
be abstract and disorienting; but they can be depthlessly beautiful
and moving, too. Essentially a power trio with a fourth member
adding subtle, textural keyboard augmentation, LDOM is a throwback.
Yet it's the kind of mind-melting throwback that references a
period in rock history when pop, rock, jazz and blues all collided
under the nominal banner of "psychedelia" and which additionally
fueled some of history's most intense and fruitful explorations
of the physical and psychological properties of music.
There are numerous sonic epiphanies on this disc, but one particularly
astonishing moment occurs midway into the 12-minute "Apollo Cabinfire."
Right at the apex of an aggressive string-mauling segment from
Precoda, as a Mellotron-sounding keyboard drones ominously beneath
his flourishes, an indescribable tension builds up; at the precise,
perfect moment, the rhythm section kicks into overdrive (the bassist
seems to yank it to "11"), and the listener is given that free
rocket ride to the stars he's been waiting for. It's called "release,"
and LDOM understands the need for it.
The near-telepathic interaction of LDOM suggests long hours of
rehearsal and experimentation -- and more than a little time spent
with ears pressed collectively against the home stereo unit divining
the secrets of Miles, of Coltrane, of Jimi. As such, there's an
uncommon intimacy that graces this album. The effect upon you
is not unlike the fantasy scenario outlined before: peek through
the curtains, and there you'll see 'em, lost in their private
sonic reverie, jamming for the gods.
Note: As record reviews routinely fail to note the patronage behind
such endeavors, be aware that the label issuing this disc, Blacksburg,
Virginia-based Squealer, has navigated an impressive roster over
the past few years, issuing everything from free jazz (William
Hooker, Charles Curtis) to "out"-rock (Rake, Tower Recordings)
to avant-psych indie rock (Spatula, Refrigerator, Tono-Bungay).
The brain child of former 'zine editor Butch Lazorchak, Squealer
combines the best instincts and aesthetics of such pioneers as
Homestead, Touch & Go, SST, etc. Contact the label on the
Web at www.SquealerMusic.com."-Fred Mills
All
Music Guide Online (Three Stars)
"Dream Syndicate guitarist Karl Precoda leads the Virginia-based
Last Days on their second CD, which explores free rock territory.
Precoda's clattery, distended, psycho-delic guitar feeds back
to itself in question and answer mode, yet there's a cleanliness
to his dense sound which renders it fairly organized and decipherable.
Rhythm mates Thomas Howard and James Ralston keep the beat focused,
but expand upon Precoda's take-no-prisoners concept, heading for
terrain similar to Blue Cheer, Jimi Hendrix, or Sun Ra. A slow,
bluesy beat is the foundation for "The Mezz," the most straightforward
effort of the five cuts. A beat of 3/4 to 4/4 informs the rockish,
free, and jamming "Apollo Cabinfire," a hard-driving improvisation
where Precoda plays a discernible solo. The most involved and
intricate piece of the date is "ECG 102A." Whale drones contrast
with industrial clanking; free raking and scraping, ghostly heart
throbs, afterburner jet pops, and acid-dropped dramatics are all
present in a relatively free context. "Up From the Equator" sports
quite scattered improvisation, solid soulful bass funk, wah wah
guitar, and additional Afro-Cuban conga from fourth wheel Leonard
Wishart. "The West" has an easier funk base, but is sonically
rich; the clarity of Precoda's ideals are obvious to anyone who
might be interested in his different, mind-swelling approach.
This release is for those who realize that this type of music,
which was born in the '60s, is very much alive today. It should
satisfy not only the older fans of the genre, but younger listeners
who remember Precoda's past glories." -Michael G. Nastos
New York Press March 30, 2000
"Last Days of May leader Karl Precoda is smart. Thus he will
never attain mass popularity, nor will he win over the aging ex-college
radio DJs who worshipped at the altar of the Dream Syndicate,
the band in which he played throughout the early to mid-80s. Precoda's
excessive, overdriven chord washes defined the L.A. band's most
vital material, including their classic The Days of Wine and
Roses. When he left, frontman Steve Wynn traded raw-nerved
neo-psychedelia for worthless, trad-influenced cow-punk.
Having resurfaced in Virginia more than a decade later, Precoda
refuses to soften or compromise, ignoring both trends and former
fan bases. The Last Days of May do not cater to "mature" people
who have shelved their Dream Syndicate, Husker Du and Soft Boys
albums to accept the vile adult solo outputs of has-beens like
Wynn, Bob Mould and Robyn Hitchcock. Unlike many of his former
left-of-the-dial peers, Precoda doesn't fancy himself an "alternative"
singer/songwriter. His appeal to traditionalists is limited. He
doesn't give a rat's ass about songs; he's a technician, an analog
scientist and a musician's musician. The Last Days of May's loose,
all-instrumental, live-in-the-studio jams make the wildest Dream
Syndicate trips sound like Poco.
Despite his penchant for freeform wanderings, Precoda is not a
jazzbo convert-although the phrase "radiant black mind" does resemble
the title of some long-lost nugget on ESP-nor is he one of those
ambient fools acclaimed by The Wire and the postrock generation.
He believes in the power, the expressiveness and the emotional
depth of real rock, though he seeks to dismantle the form's clichés.
Radiant Black Mind is an experimental, improvisational
and somewhat meditative endeavor, but it never sacrifices physicality
for evocativeness. This follow-up to the Last Days of May's overlooked,
1997 debut locates the intersection of sprawling, THC-stoked heaviness
and sooty, textual pitter-patter. But even when the going gets
obtuse and placid, bassist Thomas Howard and drummer James Ralston
exhibit an understanding of the fundamentals of rhythmic weight
and motion. Don't be misled by the quiet subtlety of eerie tracks
like "ECG 102A" and the opening "The Mezz"; the Last Days of May
create meandering body music that uses artful restraint and avant-garde
noise to tilt the axis of thoroughly tangible, unselfconscious
acid rock. Yes, hippie, those might be bongos you hear on the
juicy, wah-wah-propelled "Up from the Equator."
Sometimes the stuff can fade into the background and come off
as aimless, even tedious and snoozy. But Radiant Black Mind's
running time is a gracious 47 minutes, which means it won't drone
on and on to the point of exhausting your dinner guests. At the
very least you'll have no trouble basking in the rich megawatt
hum of Precoda's amp and instrument. His solos and his lovingly
deployed, percussive creaks skate atop supernatural shivers of
feedback; his alternately clean and crackly phrases are both sensitive
and robust, leaving a vapor trail of reverb and tremolo that fills
wide open spaces with high- and low-end heat lightning. When his
noodlings slowly coalesce and crest into eternity on the epic,
awesome "Apollo Cabinfire," he can communicate pure, radiant energy.
His musings are far less alien than the similarly intended gnarl
of out-guitar heroes Caspar Brotzmann and Elliott Sharp. You may
need to alter your reality or think really hard in order to fully
digest Radiant Black Mind, but you certainly won't need
any artificial stimulants or theory classes to appreciate Precoda's
bold stylistic intentions."- Jordan N. Mamone
Broken Face #9 (September 2000)
"Karl Precoda and his Last Days of May return with a massive,
hallucinatory follow-up to their '98 debut. "Radiant Black Mind"
(released on Squealer this time) offers 5 more extended improvisational
jams, ranging from the full-on acid dementia of that first album
to more experimental or freer excursions, and all recorded live
in a big room for optimum listening pleasure. "The Mezz" is a
slowly meandering bit of aural hypnosis that snakes into the consciousness
with nimble ease. Precoda's undulating feedback glides above the
fluid bass and percussion, dropping in and back out of the mix,
standing time on end with searing wah-wah eruptions. "Apollo Cabinfire"
builds from crackling sparks of distortion, setting off the fiery
maelstrom of the rest of the track. It's a beautiful thing to
behold, making such extreme temperatures slightly more bearable.
Let it burn. "ECC 102A" is the first genuinely creeped out thing
on here, offering a more deconstructed form of improvisation.
I wouldn't be surprised if Precoda was fan of some New Zealand
noise or even Pelt for that matter (and I think he is). Then comes
the double whammy of the damaged Caribbean flavor of "Up From
the Equator" * astounding solo work from Karl here * and the howling
slow-burn of closer "The West," with super-fried fuzz riding shotgun
above a slow storm of rhythmic badness (as in coolness). My eyes
glazeth over. Fans of serious guitar psych, take heed."- Mats
Gustafsson
C-Ville Weekly Vol. 12, No. 17, April 25-May
1, 2000
"The newest offering from former Dream Syndicate
axman Karl Precoda is an all-you-can-eat psychedelic breakfast
banquet served a la carte with a strange trip omelet. After
migrating to Virginia a few years back, Precoda hooked up with
Fire Sermon's Tom Howard, the man many local musicians might remember
as Heinz Musitronics' former repair guru, and convinced him to
put his energy into a fiery fusionoid band with a 100% trial-and-error
modus operandi. The Last Days of May were born, a platform
for Precoda 'to go for the long bomb' with his schizoid wah, squeeze-and-peel
meltdown guitar style. Recorded primarily live in the studio,
Radiant Black Mind is a sometimes spooky, eyebrow-raising
soundtrack for a deserted space station, ambient (like the maestro,
Brian Eno) at points, and driving like a liquid steamroller at
others. This is not psychedelia for hippy-freaks; this is psychedelia
for industrialists and apocalypse fetishists. Featuring current
and former (in that order) Baaba Seth percussionists
Leonard Wishart and James Ralston, this one should be in your
rack of strange day tuneage."-Cripsy Duck
All About Jazz Web Site April 2000
"The closest referent for this group that I can think of (and
my knowledge of this kind of music is admittedly severely limited)
is the Bay-area based Mermen, a group led by another underground
guitar icon, Jim Thomas, which traffics in similarly loose-ended
paeans to the psychedelic age. Surf overtones are largely absent
here, but the two groups share an obvious affinity for psychedelic
sound experimentation and both guitarists fraternize heavily with
the possibilities afforded by the amplification of their instruments.
"The Mezz" serves as a fitting encapsulation of their credo joining
jangling guitar, hollow percussion and electronic raindrop percussion.
Pogo-stick rhythms and snarling guitar ignite in a slow burn on
"Apollo Cabinfire." The collective groove is a subtle one that
starts out slow, but soon gains momentum and grabs you by the
seat of the pants chucking you head long into an ever-widening
sonic breach. All the while Precoda stomps his effects pedal into
floor churning out a barrage of wah-wah doused feedback that unfurls
like a writhing mass of electrically-charged eels.
Cavernously creaking reverb inhabits "ECG 102A" for what seems
like an eternity, broken by bouts of post-industrial noise and
clattering string machinations. "Up From the Equator" is somewhat
less opaque. Precoda indulges in a vaporous buzzing solo floating
above the ghostly percussion of Ralston. A recognizable groove
eventually coalesces seemingly out of thin air, but upon closer
inspection with clear antecedents in the formerly abstract discourse.
It's this sleight of hand and clever kind of obfuscation that
makes the group so enjoyable. When the four lock in on a discernible
target the results are often exhilarating. The cryptically titled
"The West" has a strange desolate feel. Across its fractured expanse
Precoda's heavily distorted lines converge with cowbell and hand
percussion sounding like the musical accompaniment to some postmodern
cowpoke's journey herding his cattle across an inhospitable range."-Derek
Taylor
Dallas Metro February 29th, 2000
"The Last Days of May's dizzying abstractions do not suggest
the tail end of spring. This power-trio-plus-percussionist is
the musical equivalent of the Indian summer sun extinguishing
itself atop a desert plateau. Karl Precoda's sulfuric guitar storms
form deep red and orange steaks on the blue-gray horizon drawn
by bassist Thomas Howard, drummer James Ralston, and percussionist
Leonard Wishart. Radiant Black Mind's heavy, steady rumble
and rattle - the title of which sounds like the name of some ancient
ESP free jazz album - crackles and drifts like a peyote-induced
vision on a late-September evening.
Of course, grad student-ish rambling hardly elucidates Precoda's
intentions or, for that matter, his historical importance. In
the early-to-mid-'80s, his scientific feedback drove the Dream
Syndicate, the Los Angeles quartet that perfected neopsychedelia
for the punk-informed era. Precoda left steaming handprints all
over that group's worthiest records, among them their excellent,
self-titled debut EP (Ruby) and the stunning 1982 LP The
Days of Wine and Roses (Slash). Upon his exit, the band lost
its edge and turned into a twangy, adult-alternative bore. Having
resurfaced in Virginia many years later, Precoda continues to
challenge himself and his audience, dreaming up more radical visions
of amplified excess. Mind, the follow-up to the LDOM's
1997 self-titled debut (No-Fi), is a rare treat in these
so-called post-rock times. This largely meditative, improvisational
effort actually rocks - unapologetically and sans clichés.
For each of its restrained plinks and plunks, the loud but never
assaultive album boasts at least one huge, sustained crescendo.
The chilly, crumpled sound-art of "ECG 102A" somehow fits snugly
alongside "Apollo Cabinfire's" forceful ignition. Portions of
Mind are slightly too subtle for their own good. The work
is neither 100% engaging nor is it immediately gratifying, which
isn't necessarily a problem. Pay close attention to Precoda's
overdriven, wah-wah-smeared solos and admire his support crew's
subliminal, low-end locomotion. The harder you listen, the more
you'll cherish this naturalistic perversion of non-Phish jam rock
and the visceral side of the avant-garde."- Jordon N. Mamone
Perfect Sound Forever Web Zine April/May 2000
Radiant Black Mind is a grand, majestic, expansive instrumental
album from the mind of Karl Precoda. Precoda, as the signature
Dream Syndicate guitarist, was the paisley underground guitarist
that put scary feedback and bad-trip psychedelia in to the LA
'80's psychedelic revival. These broad-stroked, impressionistic,
lengthy creations hearken back to the gritty, distorted headspace
Precoda invited us into in the Dream Syndicate heyday. Dream Syndicate
went on to boring self-parody in an attempt to recast itself as
pop with substance. Precoda goes further toward freeform, art-rock.
(4 out of 5 rating)"-Tom Schulte
Signal to Noise 17
"Do you remember the early '80s, when jazz went into retreat
and post-punk got hooked on hairspray? Then maybe you remember
what a kick in the ass the Dream Syndicate's first two records
were in those bleak days. The quartet played barely controlled,
feedback laced, improvisationally informed rock and roll that
made you think there was still life left in the beast. Singer
Steve Wynn was the Syndicate's leader, but lead guitarist Karl
Precoda was the flame thrower who set their performances ablaze.
He ditched the band in 1984 and turned to academia, but recently
he's returned with this instrumental ensemble. They're quite unafraid
to stretch out and willing to wallow in distorted, wooly racket;
you can bet that Precoda's got a couple Sonny Sharrock records
filed alongside Live at Leeds and his Stooges Lps. Guitar
technology has moved ahead since Precoda went on hiatus, and to
his credit he hasn't succumbed to the lure of soul-sucking 'advancements;'
there's no MIDI wanking or yogurt-smooth tone control happening
here, but plenty of swirling surf echo and squalling post-Stooges
wah-wah action. They even let the beat drop away and wander around
Echo Canyon on the lengthy 'ECG 102A' without getting lost. Welcome
back!"-Bill Meyer
The Daily Copper 8/23/00
"Last Days Of May makes hypnotic rock-based soundscapes that
are perfect for listening to sprawled out on the floor of some
pitch-black room with the stereo at top volume. Radiant Black
Mind was recorded live and has a loose, searching, improvised
feel. The music never stagnates, and some moments (as with the
gnawing, abrasive guitar scowl of "Apollo Cabinfire") are positively
startling. A beautiful creepiness runs throughout the recording,
scraping at the back of your eardrums like some rusty device lost
in an abandoned hallway, trying every door slowly and deliberately
in its search to find a way out. "The West" is perhaps the defining
track on this collection. This piece resembles some ungodly collaboration
between space-noise rockers Hovercraft and Germany's guitar beast
Caspar Brotzmann. It's a vast number, with a bubbling, monstrous
guitar tone leading the way through a great galloping, dusty progression.
Radiant Black Mind is a mean, stripped-down document of
a band truly in the moment- live, raw and exploring sonic possibilities."-Jeff
McLeod
Aiding and Abetting #195
"An 'augmented power trio' (which means there are four rather
than three members), Last Days of May builds some really astonishing
sounds. Each (lengthy) song is a journey, with plenty of peaks
and valleys traversed within. The place is space, I suppose, as
the guitars have lots of reverb and echo. The sorta stuff that
facilitates frontal lobe motivation. I can dig it. And, hey, I'm
not making fun by saying that. These are meandering pieces, sure,
but they have plenty of incisive moments. There's room for introspection
and observation within and without the music. The thing is, you
have to think. No two ways about it. Last Days of May does not
make background music. This is stimulating fare, the kind of music
that encourages critical thinking. No matter how you react, the
music wills you to action. Wonderful in that and so many other
ways.-Jon Worley
Carbon 14 #17
Squealer (the label) likes, it seems, guitar-heavy outfits playing
with abandon in the grand ol' "acid rock" style of yesteryears.
Labelmate Japanese power trio HIGH RISE plays today like Cream
reborn." Last Days Of May", with former Dream Syndicate guitarist
Karl Precoda, takes its cues from post- Fleetwood Mac Peter Green,
circa The End Of The Game, when Green traded his blues
licks for wah-wah action and acid downer atmosphere. LDOM is a
bit more than just that, of course, but the correlation was too
hard to miss for this aging reviewer. Precoda does neat things
with his guitar, drawing mighty sounds from his instrument, wailing/screaming/squealing
through a bunch of vintage-sounding effects : wah-wah, reverb
(dare I say tremolo ? ? !), distortion...
Like Alex Dmochovsky and Zoot Money with Peter Green thirty years
ago, LDOM's rhythm section is quite inventive, not content with
just watching the feedback fly around the room or handing Kleenex
to the Cry Baby wah wah ! But Precoda is the focal point here.
Shades of musique concrete run through the mix at various points
and, blended with the guitar effects, Anthem of the Sun
type flashbacks. An atmosphere of menace and anguish permeates
the whole instrumental affair, quite epic in scope but without
going overboard. If you like syncretic electric guitar/amplifier
combinations, this is for you!"-Michel Polizzi
C-Ville Weekly July 11-17, 2000
"The following night the Last Days of May took Tokyo Rose's stage
in stages. First the Baaba Seth drum squad set up a deep polyrhythmic
groove. Karl Precoda followed, taking his sweet time clicking
and humming textural effects before launching his guitar assault
while bassist Tom Howard tested the low end waters for ethereal
pockets.
L.D.O.M. is always good for dedicated cerebral psychedelia. Epic
impromptu jams erupt when the rhythm section's sheer willpower
receives affirming momentum from Howard's dub bass designations.
Above all this Precoda dances like a freak shaman slowly settling
into the spectral fire of his own starry magnetism.
The Tokyo Rose crowd drew up chairs to observe this raw theater
of the psychedelic. Rumor has it that L.D.O.M. was offered an
opening spot on Sonic Youth's summer tour-mainstage and everything-but
turned it down..."-Cripsy Duck
Chicago Tribune, March 5, 2000
"The Dream Syndicate's incendiary 1982 debut was a rallying cry
that asserted the enduring primacy of savagely played rock 'n'
roll in a musical landscape that was dominated by techno pop and
arena pomp. It was Karl Precoda's feedback-drenched lead guitar
that put the band over the top, but he left the Syndicate to join
academia. He has returned with this power trio after 13 years
in the stacks, and his sonic wit and ferocity are as sharp as
ever. The album's five instrumentals are launching pads for visceral,
wide-ranging explorations equally inspired by Sonny Sharrock and
Link Wray."-Bill Meyer
Ink 19, June 2000
Free. Open. Good. I'm finding that the best music is often the
hardest to describe. Two guitars, a bass and drums. What's so
tough about that?
Last Days of May are the perfect mix of abstract and concrete,
the bass and drums being the concrete part, while the guitars
are highly abstract. Except on "ECG 102A," where everyone is making
small sounds that cohere in the best way possible, the total being
far more than the sum of its parts. No structures really emerge
at all, it's just 4 people totally focusing on the matter at hand.
"Apollo Cabinfire," on the other hand, is a rollicking psych ride,
bass and drums providing waves while guitars surf on top. 5 tracks,
45 minutes - how can you go wrong with something so utterly sublime?"-Nirav
Soni
CD Services mail order (UK) web site
"All - instrumental power trio of electric guitar, bass and drums,
with a corking new album that will undoubtedly appeal to anyone
into Spacious Minds (electric and without the vocals), Djam Karet,
`Uncle Harry' style Pink Fairies (the live ultra long version)
and similar guitar-based bands. With nearly all lengthy compositions,
this music is so superb, thanks largely to its use of dynamics
among the power, knowing when to build, when to slow, when to
roar and when to rock - this is just a fantastic album."-Andy
Garibaldi
Scram #12
"[Precoda]'s second record with his three-piece band is
a weird passage through alien plains, full of spooky notes and
fearless instrumentation. Sometimes it sure does rock, but mostly
it's pretty in a fierce sort of way."
LAST DAYS OF MAY
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