Gandalf Murphy & The Slambovian Circus of Dreams

28/01/2010

Wizard psych-rock @ ABC2 Glasgow

Gandalf Murphy and the Slambovian Circus of Dreams
02 ABC2, Glasgow
4/5

At first sight, the gentleman of sinister aspect centre-stage looks to be ringleader of a hotch-potch mish-mash of beardie atrocities. But frontman Joziah Longo’s foreboding facial hair and heavy black hat combo belie a warm, witty character with the entire root system of Rock Family Trees embedded in his voice.

When tremendously pretty, smiley, spacey blonde multi-instrumentalist Tink Loyd starts doing wibbly things to a theremin during ‘Flapjacks from the Sky’, only the heardest heart could resist. A heavy beast of a song, the title track from their 2004 album, the guitar and synth bear down with a double-barrelled wail.

The band –Sharkey McEwan on guitar and an endearing slide-mandolin, Tony Zuzulo on drums and junior Longo on keyboards – are at their best when they’re doing deeply-grooved and fiercely heavy tracks, like the titular song from their current album ‘The Great Unravel’, with a naggingly familiar killer retro-guitar riff.

Their sense of humour recalls The Handsome Family as it winds darkly through their betwixt-song chat, talking at length about their hometown on the Hudson River and inviting us all to their annual hoedown thereabouts. They apologise for introducing the “sissy song” which their agent insists they play at folk festivals, revealing it’s “dedicated to the invincible spirit of woman… so it’s called ‘Baby Jane’.” The nod to trip-hippy-whimsy of the “Slambovian waltz” of ‘Pushing Up Daisies’ is also offset by wry, pointed lyrics.

Allusions to their rock idols are thunked blatantly into their compositions. The Who pop up, ‘Gloria’ dances through the encore, and they embrace the “hillbilly Floyd” moniker in the lyric “send an invasion of flapjacks to the dark side of the moon”. Joziah’s chameleon vocals veer from Dylan to Diamond, Bowie to Jack Black, Jon Bon to Neil Young. It’s an interesting mix, with obvious appeal to the gents of a certain vintage that dominate the audience.

The whiff of canvas and greasepaint, burlesque in its true sense and sideshow freakery is all image; the music is most broadly painted as psychedelic boho slacker rock with heavy overtones. But it’s a delicious mix, delivered with understated, trippy geniality that’s uplifting, soothing and bewitching as a snake oil tonic. 

By Vicky Davidson