ALTAMONT - The Monkees’ Uncle

Oblivious to the times we're living in and to music that keeps getting more and more self-disrupted, California's Altamont keep serving up their hard'n'heavy-blues blend without batting an eye. There's a world in turmoil out there... but it's clear our guys have sealed the windows shut with the utmost care. They've lit up one of those particularly spicy cigarettes and dug back into the ZZ Top playbook, filtering it through a few smoldering Melvins-style rough edges — a band frontman Dale Crover knows very well, having played drums for them. And so, should you happen to come across it, don't be afraid to be pleasantly surprised by a record that, although pretty much pointless and hopelessly out of time, carries a sincerity that ends up winning us over here and there. Among other things, they've also picked up a brand-new organist and percussionist. Might there be an original idea lurking somewhere in there! Not a chance!

Put the record on and you'll find exactly what you'd expect: the frenetic cadence of "Frank Bank" is a calling card that doesn't lie. "Bathroom Creep" and "Dum Dum Fever" slow the pace down — the latter a loose-limbed, sour-toned vision with vaguely stoner overtones. If the uptempo rush of "El Stupido" and the clattering scrap-metal of "Pedigree" stretch out one yawn too many, the sweeping riff of "The Bloodening" takes on a lysergic quality with the intrusion of distorted solos and gunpowder-fast runs. Opened by a shy acoustic melody, "Easter Sunday" blossoms into an epic, blazing psych-blues expanse, with Melvins' grin visible in the rearview mirror. A brief detour into punk territory ("In A Batter World"), and that's about it. Actually, no!

What remains are the so-called minor tracks, which turn out to be the most interesting ones. Perhaps thrown together as filler divertissements, yet still able to make the mediocrity of "The Monkees' Uncle" a little easier to swallow. Nothing to tear your hair out over, mind you. Still, it's quite something to hear these pure-hearted tough guys grappling with experimentation – metallic clatter, hissing flickers, amorphous vocals – on "Bull Ramus", or with the demonic aura of "Laughing Boy". Or again, with furious feedback wrapped around a percussive dance (the title track). These guys mean well and put in the effort. But be warned: if you decide to hand over some of your money to them, pair the purchase with a bottle of whisky. It's essential, and it'll help you digest the rip-off.

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30/04/2026