Freedom’s Children are one of the great druggie unrequiteds, neglected and lightly dusty South African
Acid Rock (I cleaned my ear-buds to be certain, the dirt was not on my end of the wire, and as the effect is gentle and not due to low budgetry, it must be intent (or bad mastering)). Astra, is their crown, crusted (lower case) Floyd
, big side of Rock-Musical vibe, its place in the spectral culinary corollary is a thick slice of a slight too ripe and invisible tomato betwixt the meat of The Who’s
Tommy and the bread of Webber&Rice’s
Jesus Christ Superstar.
“ Oh shit! . . . We forgot the tomatoes! ” –T.G.
Overall, well balanced cool creepy non-overt proto-Goth trip, weird over-enunciated crooning, Peter Murphy’s
older soul cousin sings to straining guitar and organ stains strained in and out of some syncopated Prog faux-Classical Saccharine plod that sometimes veers into that music-for-music’s sake deal, you know . . . skilled musicianship, at times can choke the scene
The South Africans got Rodriguez
right too, sad so late for the rest of us.
Really dug this one, but all to briefly, would of given it a 9/10
, if I had not soon thereafter heard Phantasia’s
Psych with out the derivatives, never got a proper release to begin with, still has not, so Astra in relation to it is High Mid-Grade Lost and Found Psych (that was never lost to begin with).
“When your big in Japan, tonight, big in Japan, be tight . . . “ –M.G. de A.
8/10 -- Tim Goodwillie (25 February, 2009)