Fuzzhead “High in a Basement”

The 15th or so Fuzzhead album, from 1995, and if this wasn’t universally regarded the best record of 1995 (seeing how it’s the best record of the Nineties) then I have absolutely no use for “universal” rankings, Rolling Stone poll, etc.—and it wasn’t, and I don’t. It’s the kind of record, if I saw it in my local record store and knew nothing about it, it’d be devastated that I can’t afford the $20 they’re asking for it (it’s worth more than that, but due to my current financial situation, I have a $5 cap). Fuzzhead isn’t a famous band (to me they’re famous—my own definition—which is more about ethereal mythology than social media numbers), but they’re not exactly unknown, so you can use that ol’ inter’et to find everything you want to know, and I won’t have to repost stuff I wrote in two previous Fuzzhead reviews in the Farraginous realm. I own three LPs and a couple of CDs—I’d like to find more, someday. Some of their releases are cassette only, and seeing how the kids are flipping over cassettes these days (or is that over?) it’s likely those will be even more pricey. An odd aside: I don’t usually struggle to read the hieroglyphics scratched into the vinyl area between the last song and the label (usually some obscure note about the pressing, I guess), but I looked at this one for some reason, and it weirdly includes a quote: “They got it now Robbie”—which you’ll recognize as something Neil Young said in the movie, The Last Waltz. Weird.

The cover is a black and white photo of a dude with what looks like a dried (hopefully) pelvic bone over his head as a mask. I only say “pelvic bone” because it reminds me of those Georgia O’Keeffe paintings of desert-dried bones with big, round openings in them—but for all I know, it could be a partially eaten French pastry from the state fair. At any rate—it’s a creepy, evocative photo. The back cover is a photo collage of the band members playing music or otherwise hanging out (in a basement). It says: “Recorded live in the basement at Franklin Ave./ Jan.-Feb. 1995.” So there you go. The recording is fantastic—it’s as good sounding as any record I have—balanced, in the room, dynamic, not muddy, warm, everything you want in guitar heavy psychedelic rock. There’s a great drum sound (Neil Sherhag), and the rest: Bill Finsel, voice, John Howitt, bass, Scott Hosner and Bill Weita, guitars are all vivid. Bill Weita is, of course, the Fuzzhead mastermind. I’m not gonna list them, but side A is four songs, B is two—the closest thing to an endless jam is “Catnip in Her Head”—most of the second side, which is sublime and too short. The remainder of the record is songs—my favorites are “Springtime” (well, more of a “coda,” I guess). “Chicken” (relentless, could have gone on longer), “Patch on your Eye” (a ballad, more or less), the infinitely catchy “Another Step Closer” which reminds me of Half Japanese (another favorite band from the time), and “88.8” (if that wasn’t a radio hit it’s because, well, you know…). Whoops, that’s all of them.

5.29.26