Kaleidoscope

Jimmy Page's oft-quoted, categorical verdict (and he's not exactly a nobody when it comes to music) would be enough on its own to justify including this album among the milestones of Kaleidoscope's opera omnia: “My favourite band of all time, my ideal band”.

In any case, beyond the subjective judgment—however authoritative—of the Led Zeppelin guitarist, it's the plain facts that testify to the epoch-making importance of the American band's masterpiece in question (not to be confused with the British band of the same name, "Tangerine Dream", also active at the time), namely "A Beacon From Mars". It can rightly be considered not so much the outright forerunner of world music — as erroneously claimed in many quarters — since it was preceded by significant developments both in jazz (Don Cherry's "Global Village" being a prime example) and in popular music (Harry Belafonte's calypso, the "Mama Africa" of Miriam Makeba), but rather, more precisely, the first structured (and perfectly realized) attempt to cross-breed rock with extra-Western ethnic sounds (the Middle/Far East and, more broadly, the world's "south").

Although the band was democratically free of an institutional leader, one cannot fail to acknowledge the guiding role of the virtuoso multi-instrumentalist (guitar, banjo, mandolin among his specialties) David Lindley (b. 1944, San Marino, California), who would later become a sublime session man on records by Jackson Browne, Warren Zevon, Linda Ronstadt, Ry Cooder and others, up through his collaboration with Bruce Springsteen on "The Promise".

He is, in fact, the catalyzing core of the group, ever since 1964, when he founded the Dry City Scat Band together with bassist Chris Darrow (b. 1944, Sioux Falls, South Dakota). The latter soon left (though he would return shortly after) to form a new group, The Floggs, and Lindley began performing as a duo with the eclectic singer Solomon Feldthouse (b. 1940, Pingree, Idaho), fresh from artistic experiences in Turkey and active in niche areas such as flamenco and accompanying belly dancers. Following his encounter with violinist/keyboardist Chester Crill — who over the years renamed himself Max Budda, Max Buda, Fenrus Epp, Templeton Parcely (b. 1940, Oklahoma City, Oklahoma) — and the addition of drummer John Vidican (b. 1944, Los Angeles, California), Kaleidoscope were officially born in 1966.

From their debut "Side Trips" (Epic, 1967) onward, the American group's great eclecticism is already evident, along with their determination to find common ground between tradition and innovation. Tradition is still represented largely by Western folklore (the country of "Hesitation Blues" and the ragtime of "Minnie The Moocher", a Cab Calloway cover). However, other, less familiar sounds make their way onto the scene, if only tentatively: they can be traced in the bouzouki (a lute of Greek origin) and in the Pakistani sacred singing of "Egyptian Gardens", as well as in the Eastern atmospheres of "Why Try".

The initial thrust is clearly pop in nature (in the best sense of the word), from the multi-voiced chorus of "If The Night" to the rhythmic drive of the single "Please". The cornerstone is "Pulsating Dream", barely two minutes of pure, extreme pleasure carried along on streams of chiming guitars straight out of the Byrds playbook.

At first glance, one might simplistically label Kaleidoscope as cousins (less pompous and goofier) of the Grateful Dead (see the murky acidity of "Keep Your Mind Open", but also the saloon-style revelry of "Come On In" and the loping gait of Dock Boggs's "Oh Death"). But it's on their second album, thanks to the introduction of exotic instruments, the complexity of odd-time rhythms, improvisation and the broadening of their harmonic exploration toward distant lands, that Lindley's band decisively sets itself apart from any other musical proposition of the late Sixties.

Indeed, with "A Beacon From Mars" (Epic, 1968) — which, according to a playful legend fueled by the English music magazine Zig Zag, was supposedly meant to be titled "Bacon From Mars" — Kaleidoscope stand out as one of the most original bands not just of the era but of the entire history of rock. Beyond that, one must naturally also factor in the sheer quality of their output, since originality in itself is not always a virtue.

The two pillars of the record are a pair of lengthy compositions: "Taxim" (11:23) and the title track (12:32). If the former represents Kaleidoscope's ethnic soul, the latter embodies their psychedelic spirit. One is a real, objective, tangible journey into Eastern musical tradition, while the other is an inward trip, at once spiritual and mental.

"Taxim" unfolds over a slow, inexorable crescendo. The atmosphere grows rarefied and mysterious as the violin enters into dialogue with unusual stringed instruments such as the harp guitar, the bağlama (a lute of Turkish origin) and the oud (a lute of Middle Eastern origin). Then the percussion provides a backdrop for steep, fearless climbs on the six strings, conjuring, in sharply defined vignettes, a series of ecstatic visions.

That ecstasy finally finds release in a swirling, boundless dervish dance, with the instruments chasing one another in an unstoppable vortex. This is the epicenter, not just of the composition, but of the entire album. Over five minutes of pure, "childlike" freedom, the sheer joy of living and dancing without ever stopping, as if the world were never meant to end.

It's hard to find, in the history of rock, an instrumental of such length that doesn't induce even a single yawn, that doesn't allow for a moment's distraction. No one could be accused of excessive enthusiasm for calling it a masterpiece within the masterpiece, and one of the ten best tracks of the Sixties.

"A Beacon From Mars", by contrast, is an extremely acid-drenched jam, in which Kaleidoscope display tremendous technical virtuosity that is nevertheless never an end in itself, but always steeped in palpable emotional engagement. A colorful detail: the violin bow Lindley used for his electric guitar solo, which almost certainly provided the inspiration for its later "institutionalized" use by Jimmy Page.

A distant bell heralds the entrance into a ghostly world accompanied by sinister, spine-chilling creaks. The rhythm section comes alive with a pungent, bluesy organ in the vein of the Doors, while the bass emerges ever more forcefully; then the rhythm guitar stubbornly pushes its way forward, heralding the brash entrance of the acid, distorted lead guitar. When the harmonica forcefully takes center stage, we witness a genuine, tightly wound dialogue between instruments. Up to this point the voice plays a bit-part role, whispered with the utmost restraint, wedged into the few spaces left open. After five minutes, a genuine pause of a few seconds simulates a nonexistent ending before a new beginning with chilling sounds that stretch out until the bass returns to dictate the line with precision. Tolling bells shake the listener once more, but the final two minutes are given over entirely to the voice which, as if born from a dream, finally claims its revenge over the instruments.

The rest of the album is a multicolored journey through the rich Anglo-American musical tradition.

"I Found Out", the opening single, is indicative of the group's dual nature, both jesterly and cultured (all members were between 24 and 28 years old). The suspended intro sounds like it could be a recording stolen from a drunken Byrds session, but at the first guitar solo it becomes clear these guys mean business, and, little by little, the sonic fabric grows as rich as a Persian carpet woven by the hands of master craftsmen.

“Greenwood Sidee”, after the martial intro with drum rolls and spoken-word vocals recalling Pearls Before Swine's “Balaklava”, settles into a bucolic atmosphere where Fairport Convention graze; ground on which even an instrument as unusual for rock as the bagpipes finds room. Feldthouse's deep voice lends epic tones to the composition, evoking leaden Irish skies and rural dwellings nestled among green hills.

The multi-voice chorus of “Life Will Pass You By” sounds like it could have been sung by Crosby Stills Nash & Young on the West Coast, but what's even more striking is the luminous mandolin solo; and we're thirty years ahead of R.E.M.'s “Losing My Religion”!

After the erudite “Taxim”, the tracklist can only make room for a phase of total relaxation. So along come two divertissements in a row, “Baldheaded End Of A Broom” and “Louisiana Man”. The former has a blues structure, with harmonica dictating the line, but also a comical country atmosphere marked by a sped-up finale like a Speedy Gonzalez of the six-string; the latter is a kind of sing-song tongue-twister marked by a clear folk violin. Both tracks share a spicy Southern flavour.

The grand finale with the title track is warmed up by the powerful electric rock-blues of “You Don't Love Me”, in which the harmonica once again takes the spotlight alongside Lindley's usual virtuoso displays.

After the artistic peaks reached with “A Beacon From Mars”, nothing will ever be the same again within the Kaleidoscope family. Their approach was simply too complex and intricate for an audience that, at the time, favoured either psychedelic escapism or social protest.

Far from either extreme, the broad, multi-ethnic originality of our heroes would find no worthy successors, either immediately or in the following decades within rock (barring a few sporadic episodes limited to individual musical traditions). At most, one can trace a line of development of this approach within the elitist realm of jazz-avant-garde-new age, with its openness to “extreme” musical frontiers, ever more distant in time and space (from traditional Native American chants to the Aboriginal music of the last continent).

As Lindley and co. became aware of their commercial dead end, internal tensions grew and the waters the band was sailing in became increasingly choppy.

The first signs of instability were the departures of Darrow (for the Nitty Gritty Dirt Band) and Vidican (replaced by Stuart Brotman and Paul Lagos) at the end of 1968. The third album, “Incredible! Kaleidoscope” (Epic, 1969), turns out more predictable, in the sense that it puts the ideas developed in the early days into a more accessible form. The rhythm section becomes sharper and more prominent (as on “Lie To Me”), and Lindley's six-string becomes the band's trademark (the raga-country virtuosity of “Banjo” is particularly telling). The usual odd time signatures shake things up: the waltz-time ballad “Petite Fleur” (sung by Feldthouse in French) and, above all, the closing instrumental (its brief vocal passage irrelevant) in 7/8, “Seven-Ate Sweet”, hailed as a “world tour in eleven and a half minutes”.

Surprisingly, Kaleidoscope finally cracked the Billboard chart (albeit only at number 139). However, Feldthouse's departure during the sessions for the following album, along with the further additions of singer/guitarist Jeff Kaplan and bassist Ron Johnston (replacing Brotman), irreparably marked the decline of inspiration towards the pointless electric country blues of “Bernice” (Epic, 1970) and led to the band's inevitable breakup.

Kaleidoscope would reunite twice more, with mixed results, for the albums “When Scopes Collide” (Pacific Arts, 1976) and “Greetings From Kartoonistan” (Gifthorse, 1991). On the first, Darrow, Crill, Feldthouse, Lagos and Brotman (with Lindley taking part under the pseudonym De Paris Letante) deliver their usual stylistic blend with class. The second record, on the other hand, suffers from Lindley's definitive absence and, lacking direction, degenerates into a hodgepodge of disparate sounds with no musical thread holding it together.

Lindley's fate as a highly sought-after session man has already been covered. Little glory, however, for the rest of the band. Feldthouse returned to his old loves of flamenco and Middle Eastern atmospheres, Darrow formed the Corvettes before likewise turning to a career as a session man, while Crill found some measure of success only thanks to underground comics.

In today's barren discography landscape for Kaleidoscope, one can thankfully turn to “Pulsating Dreams: The Epic Recordings”, a box set gathering the band's first four classic albums along with singles and other rarities. Ten euros never spent so well.

Revision by Federico Romagnoli

Ride the wave of great music

Add OndaRock to your favorite sources on Google Discover. Don't miss our reviews, milestones and latest news straight in your feed.

Follow on Google

13/10/2013