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Main » 2006 » November » 24 » Kennelmus - 1971 - Folkstone Prism
Kennelmus - 1971 - Folkstone Prism
19:09


01. I Don't Know
02. Patti's Dream
03. Dancing  Doris
04. Goodbye Pamela Ann
05. Monologue
06. Black Sunshine
07.  Think For Yourself
08. The Bug, The Goat, & The Hearse
09. Shapes Of  Sleep
10. Cloud Of Lead
11. Mother Of My Children
12. 1001 Twice
13.  Sylvan Shores
14. Bulletin!!!
15. The Raven

Ken Walker (vocals,  guitar, zither, melodica, electric piano, organ, effects)
Bob Narloch  (vocals, guitar, harmonica, tambourine)
Tom Gilmore (recorder, bass)
Mike  Shipp (drums, percussion)

**************************

Once  upon a midnight dreary, while I pondered weak and weary,
Over many a quaint  and curious volume of forgotten lore,
While I nodded, nearly napping,  suddenly there came a tapping,
As of some one gently rapping, rapping at my  chamber door.
`'Tis some visitor,' I muttered, `tapping at my chamber door  -
Only this, and nothing more.'

Ah, distinctly I remember it was in  the bleak December,
And each separate dying ember wrought its ghost upon the  floor.
Eagerly I wished the morrow; - vainly I had sought to borrow
From  my books surcease of sorrow - sorrow for the lost Lenore -
For the rare and  radiant maiden whom the angels named Lenore -
Nameless here for  evermore.

And the silken sad uncertain rustling of each purple  curtain
Thrilled me - filled me with fantastic terrors never felt  before;
So that now, to still the beating of my heart, I stood  repeating
`'Tis some visitor entreating entrance at my chamber door -
Some  late visitor entreating entrance at my chamber door; -
This it is, and  nothing more,'

Presently my soul grew stronger; hesitating then no  longer,
`Sir,' said I, `or Madam, truly your forgiveness I implore;
But  the fact is I was napping, and so gently you came rapping,
And so faintly you  came tapping, tapping at my chamber door,
That I scarce was sure I heard you'  - here I opened wide the door; -
Darkness there, and nothing  more.

Deep into that darkness peering, long I stood there wondering,  fearing,
Doubting, dreaming dreams no mortal ever dared to dream  before
But the silence was unbroken, and the darkness gave no token,
And  the only word there spoken was the whispered word, `Lenore!'
This I  whispered, and an echo murmured back the word, `Lenore!'
Merely this and  nothing more.

Back into the chamber turning, all my soul within me  burning,
Soon again I heard a tapping somewhat louder than  before.
`Surely,' said I, `surely that is something at my window  lattice;
Let me see then, what thereat is, and this mystery explore -
Let  my heart be still a moment and this mystery explore; -
'Tis the wind and  nothing more!'

Open here I flung the shutter, when, with many a flirt and  flutter,
In there stepped a stately raven of the saintly days of yore.
Not  the least obeisance made he; not a minute stopped or stayed he;
But, with  mien of lord or lady, perched above my chamber door -
Perched upon a bust of  Pallas just above my chamber door -
Perched, and sat, and nothing  more.

Then this ebony bird beguiling my sad fancy into smiling,
By the  grave and stern decorum of the countenance it wore,
`Though thy crest be  shorn and shaven, thou,' I said, `art sure no craven.
Ghastly grim and  ancient raven wandering from the nightly shore -
Tell me what thy lordly name  is on the Night's Plutonian shore!'
Quoth the raven, `Nevermore.'

Much  I marvelled this ungainly fowl to hear discourse so plainly,
Though its  answer little meaning - little relevancy bore;
For we cannot help agreeing  that no living human being
Ever yet was blessed with seeing bird above his  chamber door -
Bird or beast above the sculptured bust above his chamber  door,
With such name as `Nevermore.'

But the raven, sitting lonely on  the placid bust, spoke only,
That one word, as if his soul in that one word  he did outpour.
Nothing further then he uttered - not a feather then he  fluttered -
Till I scarcely more than muttered `Other friends have flown  before -
On the morrow will he leave me, as my hopes have flown  before.'
Then the bird said, `Nevermore.'

Startled at the stillness  broken by reply so aptly spoken,
`Doubtless,' said I, `what it utters is its  only stock and store,
Caught from some unhappy master whom unmerciful  disaster
Followed fast and followed faster till his songs one burden bore  -
Till the dirges of his hope that melancholy burden bore
Of  "Never-nevermore."'

But the raven still beguiling all my sad soul into  smiling,
Straight I wheeled a cushioned seat in front of bird and bust and  door;
Then, upon the velvet sinking, I betook myself to linking
Fancy unto  fancy, thinking what this ominous bird of yore -
What this grim, ungainly,  gaunt, and ominous bird of yore
Meant in croaking `Nevermore.'

This I  sat engaged in guessing, but no syllable expressing
To the fowl whose fiery  eyes now burned into my bosom's core;
This and more I sat divining, with my  head at ease reclining
On the cushion's velvet lining that the lamp-light  gloated o'er,
But whose velvet violet lining with the lamp-light gloating  o'er,
She shall press, ah, nevermore!

Then, methought, the air grew  denser, perfumed from an unseen censer
Swung by Seraphim whose foot-falls  tinkled on the tufted floor.
`Wretch,' I cried, `thy God hath lent thee - by  these angels he has sent thee
Respite - respite and nepenthe from thy  memories of Lenore!
Quaff, oh quaff this kind nepenthe, and forget this lost  Lenore!'
Quoth the raven, `Nevermore.'

`Prophet!' said I, `thing of  evil! - prophet still, if bird or devil! -
Whether tempter sent, or whether  tempest tossed thee here ashore,
Desolate yet all undaunted, on this desert  land enchanted -
On this home by horror haunted - tell me truly, I implore  -
Is there - is there balm in Gilead? - tell me - tell me, I  implore!'
Quoth the raven, `Nevermore.'

`Prophet!' said I, `thing of  evil! - prophet still, if bird or devil!
By that Heaven that bends above us -  by that God we both adore -
Tell this soul with sorrow laden if, within the  distant Aidenn,
It shall clasp a sainted maiden whom the angels named Lenore  -
Clasp a rare and radiant maiden, whom the angels named Lenore?'
Quoth  the raven, `Nevermore.'

`Be that word our sign of parting, bird or  fiend!' I shrieked upstarting -
`Get thee back into the tempest and the  Night's Plutonian shore!
Leave no black plume as a token of that lie thy soul  hath spoken!
Leave my loneliness unbroken! - quit the bust above my  door!
Take thy beak from out my heart, and take thy form from off my  door!'
Quoth the raven, `Nevermore.'

And the raven, never flitting,  still is sitting, still is sitting
On the pallid bust of Pallas just above my  chamber door;
And his eyes have all the seeming of a demon's that is  dreaming,
And the lamp-light o'er him streaming throws his shadow on the  floor;
And my soul from out that shadow that lies floating on the  floor
Shall be lifted - nevermore!

NO COMMENTS!

**************************

Biography
This  way-obscure Phoenix band released a late-period psychedelic album in 1971 that,  by the standards of self-released LPs of the time, was several layers above the  usual such offering. Largely (although not wholly) instrumental, their Folkstone Prism was an authentically oddball, occasionally  goofy, and sometimes inspired blend of surf music, spaced-out psychedelia, and  silly pop. The exotic dabs of melodica, zither, and special effects by  multi-instrumentalist and songwriter Ken Walker added a cloud of eeriness; "I  Don't Know" has keyboards straight off the Chantays' surf classic "Pipeline, "  "Goodbye Pamela Ann" scorching psychedelic guitar that sounds like a mating of  the Electric Prunes and Haight-Ashbury, and "Mother of My Children" vocals that  sound like a Lee Hazlewood parody. Kennelmus, indeed, can be seen as spiritual  forefathers of sorts to several post-punk Arizona bands--Black Sun Ensemble,  Friends of Dean Martinez, and Scenic--that have made instrumental rock that can  function as a quasi-psychedelic desert movie soundtrack. Of course, it's  doubtful that those bands, or many others, were aware of Kennelmus, since their  album was released in a pressing of 1000 in 1971, and not even well known among  collectors.

Kennelmus evolved from the more standard garage band the  Shi-Reeves, who played British Invasion covers and surf music. Ken Walker  changed the name to Kennelmus in 1969 (Kennelmus being his full first name), and  with singer/guitarist Bob Narloch began recording Folkstone  Prism in late 1970, with the help of bassist Tom Gilmore and drummer Mike  Shipp. The record was very much the brainchild of Walker, who wrote all but one  of the songs. Three of the four band members worked at a pressing plant, making  them one of the few, if not the only, group of their sort to literally help  press their own recordings. An anomaly of its time (or any other), Folkstone Prism made little impact, and the band broke up  around the mid-1970s, although the album was reissued on CD by Sundazed in  1999.
~ Richie Unterberger, All Music Guide
Review
In the early 1970s, Kennelmus was Arizona's only psychedelic surf band. Their lone  debut album is one of the true rarities of pyschedelia and is presented in its  original form, sans any remixes or extra tracks. The music, just as heralded as  the album is rare, is an oddball head on collision of the Chantays, Quicksilver Messenger Service, Lee  Hazlewood and Ennio  Morricone & the Electric Prunes all rolled up into one gigantic  head rush. Listing individual tracks is almost senseless as the album was  conceived as one long piece of continuous music, but selections like "I Don't  Know," "Dancing Doris," "Shapes of Sleep" and the closing "The Raven" have a  hypnotic pull all their own. A true visionary piece or late psychedelic  noodling, you be the judge, but definitely a band with a sound and a style all  their own.
~ Cub Koda, All Music Guide


posted by Screaming Lord  Fuzz


Category: Psyche/Garage/Folk | Views: 3024 | Added by: Lost-In-Tyme | Rating: 0.0/0 |

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