Album Reviews

Psychedelic music may have originated as a raw, disorienting art form in the streets of Haight-Ashbury, or in L.A. crash pads, but as with all raw art forms, it was only a matter of time before it got sanitized, commercialized and made non-threatening for middle-brow Top 40 consumption.

That doesn’t mean it was rendered worthless, as the enduring music of groups like The Association and The Millennium prove. While The Association attained far greater popularity and chart success, The Millennium’s Begin issued in 1968 and produced by pop/psych genius Curt Boettcher and Keith Olsen was equally worthy, if not moreso. Probably a studio assemblage that never performed live and a creation of Boettcher, The Millennium’s album endures because of Boettcher’s genius. Had he lived, one can imagine him having a long running Vegas show or a theater in Branson, Missouri—and that’s meant with respect.

Boettcher, who died in 1987 at the age of 43, also worked with The Association, Sagittarius, and The Beach Boys. He may have even influence Brian Wilson’s work on Pet Sounds but that’s pure speculation on my part and I don’t have the bandwidth to do the research.

For fans of The Association and other groups loosely grouped within the “Sunshine Pop” heading, this semi-obscure gem will be a revelation, not to mention a happily discovered time-capsule.

The gosh darn, clean-cut, bracing harmonies, inspired by what The Hollies and especially Graham Nash as well as The Mamas and The Papas first created soar ala The Association. The mood— heart-warming and assuring—is designed to banish dark, discordant “bad trip” thoughts then beginning to emerge from what had been a post-JFK assassination period of optimism.

The “trippy” production is packed with surprising nooks, crannies and pre-digital, pre-synthesizer studio tricks that will have you coming back repeatedly to discover new ones hidden in the musical underbrush while you revel in the soaring, uplifting melodies.

In retrospect does the intersection of cascading pop harmonies, a sprinkle of Tijuana Brass, Bossa-Nova, hymnal overdrive and puppy dog earnestness sound corny? Sure, but it’s also a helluva lot of fun and for older listeners unfamiliar with this obscure gem, a nostalgia ride into uncharted territory.

The finale, a hymn to “Columbia/CBS” accompanied by singing counterpoint and swirling flanging sound effects indicates Mr. Boettcher had a good sense of humor about it all.

Check out this tuneful production tour de force. You’ll enjoy the inexpensive ride thanks to Sundazed’s reasonable pricing policies and the fact that its pressed on normal gauge vinyl.