The Basement Rants: Recently Discovered Partial History Concerning The Matter Of Brother JT. Authored by Sonny House, c. 2004.



Round 3 - Doomsday Rock
Brother JT adds Vibrolux to his moniker and produces this ode to the Apocalypse, which is really a mix of Other Head and Come on Down, bouncing back and forth between long psych groovers, sweet folk-rockers and messages from Beelzebub. This brings the energy back, especially with the almost funky "Comin' Out," and the positively deranged "Grok," which makes the poppier numbers sweeter, especially the glorious "Never Never" and the GBV-lengthed and highly melodic "Helicopters." I don't know what "Metemphychosis" means, but here it's a near-re-write of the Stones' "Last Time" before it dissipates into a waves of space-proggy feedback and a cacophony of voices. I could do without the occasional baritoned voice of Satan joining the preceedings, and the trippy repetition of "Optigan" may be more interesting to 15 year old boys into Terry Pratchett, but the record closes with two long psych workouts, "Take Infinity" and "The Stars are Real," that hint at some Bevis Frondesque guitars while keeping things moving and not bogged down in that single idea that can often strangle interest. Overall, a big jump up from Come on Down in energy and execution, but still too many diabolical kitchen sinks thrown into the mix for an unequivocal rave.



Round 4 - Rainy Day Fun
Probably my least favorite JT release, this provides plenty of rain and very little fun, with the notable exception of "Beginning to Smile," which is a pop stunner. Much of this suffers from the same languid approach of Come on Down, but half of the tunes sound like children's songs with Ravi Shankar guitar tunings. That might sound like heaven in the wee hours of a four foot bong party, but in the sharp light of a workday morning, it's just annoying. Of course, nobody should be listening to this during work hours, or any hours that one normally associates with upwardly mobile productive behavior, and maybe to try to evaluate it in that context is just silly (as is this whole ridiculous Sisyphussian effort, but what are we if we can't throw ourselves into the meaningless abyss now and again). But there is one other disturbing thing, which is the back picture of a very young girl in a party dress looking at what appears to be a stranded astronaut on television. Nothing there, but coupled with the lyrics to "Rider Rider" ("deep inside her") about Sally on his handlebars just creeps me out. Don't know if "Just 14" will ever sound the same again. Sorry, this fatherhood thing does stuff to you.



Round 5 - Way to Go
In which our hero just says no to living room noodling and embraces the richness of full band heaviness. This is the richest, thickest and most expansive of the lot so far and the proverbial corner around which JT turns toward consistency and, dare I say it, listener-friendly gestures. "UR" opens things up aggressively with a popping bass and screeching lead freakouts, putting the throb in your deep psych needs. "Come Around" is arguably the most fully realized JT pop moment yet, with huge melodic fills and a chorus with plenty of adhesive. A totally satisfying 4 minutes for pop fans who like their candy with a twist. The title track slows down the pace and amps up the guitars again, with long wah wah knockouts over full drum workouts before JT comes back in with the falsetto, "activating plan B" and "swimming the mountain and climbing the sea." "Little Did I Know" goes after Gadnium's title of the heaviest metal not yet discovered, with everybody pounding on everything in beautiful chaotic harmony. "Throwaway" is soft and romantic, with JT proclaiming his love in a gentle ballad. Sweet. The soft interlude is short, however, as "Floating" returns to smash 'em up psych exercises, this time with great background vocals and yes, even more guitar. It just wouldn't be JT without some twisted spoken word, and on the closer, "Cloud Ten," he's confessing to "deep emotional problems," and no one who makes it through this little ditty will disagree. Can you please pass the lithium. Now, who is going to reissue that goddamned Gadnium record?



Round 6 - Maybe We Should Take Some More?
No, the title doesn't say it all, but you could argue that it does, and things slow down again, but in more of an English eccentric kinda way than a lonely man in his ramshackle Pennslyvania house way. This one loses the weight and power, and brings the playfulness and outthereness of the true experimenter. We get frogs over a pretty Kinks-like pop number ("Watcha Gonna Do?"), African tribal moon chanting ("Moon Chant,") moody 40's show tune intros ("Lassitude") and even a fuzzed out rock n roller of Original Sin-like beauty ("Child of the Sun"). Ya get a sweet lullaby ("Lullaby") that no, don't call child services, I won't be singing to the boys any time soon, potty humor ("Muff, VA"- get it?) and something that sounds like Bowie's Berlin period ("Dave's Thing"). I wasn't crazy about this at first, because the slowness of pace and the general wackiness and refusal to stick to any one style on consecutive songs can leave you numb. Or irritable. But this is a real grower, because the songs are simply more thought out and most of 'em work on their own terms, if ya give 'em half a chance. Probably too long at 18 songs, but that's the curse of the cd revolution. I wish bands would edit more fiercely, but probably deep down in their hopeful gut of guts they secretly believe that leaving that one song off just may be the kiss of success death, so throw it all against the wall and hope something sticks. The success crack doesn't apply to JT, but you know what I mean. 12 is usually plenty, and often too much. End of rant. Happy weekend.



Round 7 - Spirituals
"We cannot hide from God" runs the caption on the back of this one, right below two sweet children planting under a watchful sun, while birds fly and consciences apparently warp before the innocent will ever know what hit them. JT's continuing assault on all things organized religion finally leads him to a song cycle of his own brand of secular spirituals, an oxymoron only if you haven't been paying attention. This is his most consistent release, with each of the nine songs delivering on some level, and all of them working on their own merits. The mood is generally light, demanding you leave the dark confines of your shaded room and begin the elfin frolicking of the young, preferably in a daisyed meadow. He does take a few slightly heavier sidesteps, most notably with the traditional "Mole in the Ground," which burns the slide into a groove and then stays there long enough to put a crick in your neck if you keep bopping it up and down and all around, ya damn hippy. "Lord You Are the Wine" also looks for stone groovy land, with JT going baritone and assorted handclappers doing melodically assorted handclaps over a slow, simple fuzz guitar riff. But the emphasis here is back on melody, with no experimental sketches or ironically Beelzebubian voices coming out of the right speaker. It is just one fully realized pop tune after the next, with plenty of creative touches that add to the melodies, rather than diverting from them, like the acoustic guitar in the wonderfully sprite singalong, "Be With Us," or the flute lead intro on the stupidly catchy "Mellow." This is the perfect Sunday morning record for those looking to curb the pain by singing the praises of your own personal Jesus in whatever way possible. Godspeed you to Amoeba.



Round the Last - Hang in There, Baby
And so we come to the lastest and bestest, a perfect amalgamation of everything that's come before, punctuated by JT's defining plea, "What I do with my head is my own damn business, can I get a witness," which could be read as just more drug-addled contradiction, or a cry to the finger-waggers to put their hands back in their pockets and just let each of us live how we see fit, and yes I'm going to put some trans fatty acids in my mouth or some rainbow tabs and if that's what I need at this moment then back off, cuz to the dust we shall all return. But things start much more calmly, with JT's call for fraternity on "Brother Brother" that opens with another effective flute lead and plops us right back in the land of the lush pop hook. "Gettin' There" is another stunner, with verse, chorus and especially bridge lodging themselves firmly in your memory bank in a way that makes the end of summer feel poignant again. Things slow down with "A Little Death," a meditation on mortality and love that culminates in a long slow lead that swirls all around that 14 foot crucifix that graces the back cover. "Shine Like Me" opens with a blatant Killer's Kiss rip (How Dare He????) but then blasts into a shimmery pop chorus that demands a singalong, and that means you mr. grumpy over there in the corner. "Head Business" is the center of this minor masterpiece, and where we find the aforementioned call for the glories of acid, which takes him to the other side of beauty and love, a far better place than where you can "buy a gun at the K-Mart." And when he closes one verse with, "You're goddamned right that I say YESSSSSS," well, you're ready to load up the micro bus and get with those dancing bears, if only chemically. Heaven is a state of mind. "Let's Not and Say We Did" drops it down with grace, opening with a head-rolling bit of psych-pop, in which JT confirms some suspicions when he announces, "Let's just say I've been staying in," but this time he's inviting his friends over, and these boys can really play, so when they launch off into the extended jam that is the longest of the record, east of the sun and west of the moon, you're ready to go with them, because each solo serves the song, and not the drug's whimsy, and return will only mean another slice of that Eden of the mind. "Dry Bones" is really heavy, dude, oh yea, a one-riff monster that will put a crick in your neck if you bang for its duration. "Move On" is just gorgeous, a perfect closer (not counting the hidden track) with its chorus, "Don't you think it's time we move on," which can't help but make you ponder that, but then you realize that is exactly what JT has been doing on each record- finding the new angle, coming at it from the other side, experimenting with each and every turn so you and I receive the joy of his journeys. Amen JT, and now it's time that everybody get on board, whatever mode of transport best suits ya, if ya know what I mean, and I think you do. See you on the other side.

So ends this trip - we now return you to your regularly scheduled programming.