Pelt: Ayahuasca

THIS POST got me thinking about the expanse of Jack Rose’s catalog. I was lucky enough to see him a few years ago, and he was in a number of ways, able to out perform Peter Walker, whose lone ‘60s recording is touted as a monumental folk/raga album. And while people’s opinion on that subject might differ, it would be agreed that the over reaching enthusiasm for all musics is what pushed Pelt to seek such a wide breadth of inclusion in its work.

Rose, an admitted John Fahey devotee, has worked with drones in one way or another since his formative time as a member of Pelt. And on Ayahuasca the lead off track is entitled “True Vine.” While this obviously isn’t a Fahey reference, it does come rather close to “I Am the True Vine” by Rev. Gary Davis, who Fahey clearly admired as a musician – although he has some other stuff to say about the street preacher HERE.

So even at the onset of this disc, the folks in Pelt find it necessary to nod to a forbearer or two. And while Fahey most likely would have appreciated this work, “The Cuckoo” just a few tracks later might have been even more to his liking. Of course, this track, a common one in the American song book was less recently re-imagined by the Holy Modal Rounders, who shared a few common members with the Fugs. Pulling in not only out-folkies, but primitive garage stompers in addition to blues fans by the third track of Ayahuasca seems like a pretty remarkable feat – and the disc isn’t even halfway done yet. While the following track only ratchets up the Americana, three successive drones recall a rather important figure from the world of avant-garde composition.

“The Dream of the Leaping Sharks,” “Bear Head Apparition” as well as “Will You Pray for Me” find Pelt working in the same general vicinity as La Monte Young during his heyday in the ‘60s. But that composers name can’t really be spoken without mention of a band that a few musicians who worked in his service went on to form. The Velvet Underground were probably less than the greatest rock band ever, but it was able to incorporate pseudo-compositional elements into the raucous stomp that the band summoned.

In a trilogy of songs named for Fahey, “Raga Called John Pt. 1-3” include all of the aforementioned name checks along with some pretty solid finger picking from Rose. And it’s in these songs that the summation of the project can be found. After working to include some work tied to different artifacts from the past, these three songs assemble the disparate parts, perhaps even watering them down, to create an apt homage to an American icon. Of course, you might not be able to walk into a chain record store (they do still have those, right?) and ask where the John Fahey section is. But, there are most assuredly a number of folks who were turned on to the guitarist through the work of not just Pelt, but the countless other musicians that find Fahey‘s influence too substantial not to note.