Wonderland Band: Less than a Wonder...

I snagged this particular morsel over at the Progressive Music House, which categorized the Wonderland Band and its first album, No. 1, as a krautrock extravaganza. Unfortunately, it’s just an extravaganza as the album includes the participation of well over twenty players, but really hasn’t too much to do with krautrock apart from the fact that it was recorded by Germans in Germany. That being said, it’s really a latter day beat record with just a bit more experimentalism injected into its (digital) grooves than any traditional rock combo from the era.

What was – and I suppose remains - pretty interesting is the fact that Achim Reichel played a part in the conception and execution of the disc along side song writer and vocalist Frank Dorstal. And while Dorstal probably had more to do with the lyrical bent of the seven offerings that make up No. 1, it’s due to Reichel’s participation that the odder elements crop up here and there in the Wonderland Band’s sound.

Regardless of who’s responsible for what, Reichel’s past and what he’d wind up doing after the Wonderland Band is more interesting than what got turned in to Polydor as a proper album. The Rattles, who opened for the Beatles in ’66, was a group that Reichel had a hand in and it could be figured that the guitarist still hadn’t broken free from his pop aspirations while working with the Wonderland folks. But in moving from beat combo to beat combo, it eventually occurred to Reichel that he’d be able to do the work of an entire band with just the assistance of some electronics. And that’s where A.R. & Machines comes from. That project, which Reichel would use as a name to record under subsequent to the Wonderland Band debacle, released Die Grune Reise a few years on. And while it’s not that well known, the disc is a towering example of how to record a spate of weirdo rock and electronic tracks alone or with very little assistance.

While Reichel’s discography is far more interesting than anything that the Wonderland Band was able to record, there are bits and pieces from its first long player that are worth noting. While “Heya, Donna Laya” and “The Liberal John F.Baverstock,” which begin the album, find the ensemble reaching the outer limits of what a rock band should do – and includes a huge horn section – the songs aren’t really too rewarding. After those two clunkers are outta the way, though, the deep psych of “Heavy Rider,” notwithstanding Dorstal’s vocal, is something akin to Blue Cheer with a dash of Zappa’s odd composerly attitude tossed in.

“I Make Music,” while its sentiment  is just short of childish, finds a melody to work out that would have made any Brit Invasion group proud – and that randomly inserted vibraphone note works pretty well. Even as the final cut on No. 1 might be as intruiging as anything else here, it’s not really worth the breath needed to explain it all. Just give this one a pass and keep on moving.