Anton Barbeau hails from Sacramento but is clearly an anglophile in influences (Beatles, Syd Barrett, Julian Cope, XTC) and style. There’s an early-Bowie meets Lennon twang to his vocals, and most of the hazy, acid-quirky music comes straight out of a secluded weekend away in North Wales with the Maharishi. This is a UK release of his last-but-one 2006 album, and the ironic title track muses on the problems of being creative without chemical assistance: “I lost the will to write, to strum and to sing”. I couldn’t quite decide if this is a loving pastiche of Lennon in the sky with diamonds or more of a Rutles ‘Cheese And Onions’ mickey-take. I wasn’t able to take it too seriously myself, which became an overriding feeling for the greater part of this release – there may be problems listening without chemical assistance.

‘Leave It With Me, I’m Always Gentle’ is more identifiably individual and all the better for it, having a busking strumming, whistling, and handclaps lilt that rounds off with harmonised vocals in the gently melodic hummable chorus. One that does stick in the mind. More full-bodied power-pop forceful is the following ‘Just Passing By’ – fuelled by incessant maracas (a good thing) and piercing guitar. Then things go decidedly late 60′s Eastern hallucinogenic, and unfortunately, in a late 60′s hallucinogenic pear-shaped sort of way. ‘Alphalpha Bhang’ has vague mystical imagery and a chanted chorus that George Harrison would have been proud of, as he would the stalwart of all things transcendental – the backwards guitar loop. But it left me cold (turkey). ‘Disco Dress’ is a shortish throwaway musical collage of a ditty mixing Manfred Mann’s ‘My Name Is Jack’ flutes with a disco break and nonsense lyrics. But it is a breath of self-deprecating fresh air – what follows is another slice of overly serious strangeness: ‘Boncentration Bamps’. There’s good marshalling of instrumentation around a decent ramblingly atmospheric tune, but I made no connection with the cryptic lyrics. Ditto ‘Magic Little Apron’ (“Mango chutney, pompadom/your order’s ready, carry on.”) and four following tracks that average around two minutes. However, in the middle of these is the eleven and a half minute megalith that is ‘In A Boat On The Sea’; the first four minutes of which build delightfully before it morphs into a forgettable elongated mellow Krautrock (oxymoron?) jam fading into a psychedelic sunset.

What might have been intended as loose, playful, eclectic, and possibly experimental comes across to this listener as sloppy and self-indulgent more often than not. Barbeau can be inventive and demonstrates the capacity to be a very good tunesmith, but the overall impression is that of an out-takes album, lacking the focus to really hit home. For someone for whom each CD purchase is a measured item of expenditure, I think I’ll be waiting for a ‘Best Of’ album before making any kind of commitment.
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Links
Anton Barbeau [official site] [myspace]