THE BEVIS FROND
What Did For the Dinosaurs
(Woronzow)
For nearly 15 years now, Nick Saloman, AKA the Bevis Frond, has been the face of indie rock psychedelia. As one who is old enough to have been there when it was going down in the 60s (albeit only in his teens), he knows "authentic" psych better than nearly anyone on the scene; as a prodigiously talented musician with a keen ear for melody and a sure touch on the guitar, he's able to play pretty much anything he damn well pleases any way he wants. As the entrepreneur of his own label, he's also an avatar of the spirit of DIY recording. In short, he's a well-respected, even heroic figure for a genre mainstream figures foolishly dismiss as irrelevant.

Behind the mask of indie rock icon, however, is a far more musically complex individual. While weaned on Cream, Jimi Hendrix and Love, Saloman has kept his ears open through the years, listening to and absorbing lessons from punk, prog, folk, heavy metal and anything else that passes his strict quality control standards. He's as likely to sing the praises of the Wipers or Teenage Fanclub as David Ackles or Arthur Lee. As such he firmly resists any attempt to pigeonhole his music into a particular sound or genre. This has been especially apparent in the last few years. As he's undertaken side projects with specific musical aims in mind (psychedelic jamming with the Acid Jam project, stoner rock with Scorched Earth), his Frond records have grown both more eclectic and, seemingly paradoxically, more focused. His last album Valedictory Songs saw him evolving beyond the confines of a designation as simple as "psychedelia;" his latest platter What Did For the Dinosaurs finds him moving further away from easy labels and into the realm of purely individual expression.

The first thing one notices about What Did For the Dinosaurs is the sound. Recorded in a digital studio with, for the first time, a co-producer, this record has the cleanest, shiniest production of any Frond project. Strangely, this serves to flatten the sound a bit; the instruments don't have their usual enormous presence in the mix, as if the balance is a little too spot-on. Fortunately, Saloman breaks up what could have been sonic monotony with the most diverse batch of guitar sounds he's ever assembled, everything from sparkling clean and jangly to dirty and grungey, from watery delay to Leslie tremeloed, with a dozen different kinds of distortion. His six-string work fills in the dynamics the production sound lacks. Joined by his usual solid rhythm section of bassist Adrian Shaw and drummer Andy Ward, he gives the performances themselves enough color to overcome any minor quibbles over sonics.

Besides, as good a picker as Saloman is, guitar is not what Frond records are about. Songs are what Frond records are built on, and Dinosaurs corrals an excellent horde of them. This lot is especially notable in that so few of them owe anything to any easily recognizable sources. Sure, there's the usual number of powerhouse rockers ("Good Enough For You," "Splitting Clingfilm," "Candles") and plaintive ballads ("Our Number," the delicate, beautiful "Lost Soul's Day"), plus the usual complement of loud pop songs ("The Wrong Side," "Hold Me Up," "The Real Deal"). Saloman remains a master of the rock riff and intuitive vocal melody. He also addresses his usual topics: historical love ("Courtrai"), the erosion of musical spirit ("The Inhibition Twist"), aging (the title track). But there's a new impressionism to his lyrics that leaves them open for more individual interpretation; it's difficult to pin down just what "Silver Dart," "Return of the Stylites" and the surprising singalong "Yo-De-Lo" may be about, but it's good fun finding one's own meanings. Also, the tunes themselves don't always conform to the usually psych/pop melodies for which the Frond is known. Many songs move from a traditional chord sequence to something more unusual and back again, and the hooks may not necessarily belong to the chorus. This is easily the most varied set of tunes Saloman has ever recorded.

As if to reward longtime fans for letting him expand their minds, Saloman ends the album with "Dustbins in the Rain," a nearly 15-minute epic that puts several different movements together as almost a travelogue of his variations on the psychedelic rock that's been his meat and potatoes over the years. With lyrics like "You call me inspirational/I'm still afraid to face you all/I stay at home in case I fall flat the next time I'm up there bluffing," he seems to be addressing the ambivalence he must feel towards an audience that loves him unconditionally as long as he does what it expects. It's probably the most ambitious piece he's ever performed, a contemporary take on the rock opera in the tradition of the Who's "A Quick One While He's Away." It's a fitting ending to a record that rewards patience rather than providing instant gratification. After years of defining a certain style, it's good to know the Bevis Frond is willing to stretch boundaries like the psychedelic overlords it champions. Michael Toland [buy it]

For fans of: Spirit, Sugar, the Negro Problem