Ozric Tentacles

The Ozric Tentacles are heirs to the great tradition of progressive rock and acid rock, updated for the era of techno and world music. They draw inspiration from the great progressive bands for their free improvisations, melodic fantasies, and instrumental counterpoints, combining Gong-like humor, the fluidity of jazz-rock, and the aggressive edge of hard rock. Bubbling synthesizers, driving and often danceable rhythms, stratospheric guitars, and exotic atmospheres form an elegant sonic mosaic.

In the purest tradition of the old psychedelic movement, the Ozric Tentacles combine this musical vision with a cosmic-community spirit reminiscent of Magma and Gong. Their historical merit lies in having found the subtle thread that connects Gong, Hawkwind, Pink Fairies, Jethro Tull, Jimi Hendrix, Mike Oldfield, Todd Rundgren, and Chrome.

The Ozric Tentacles were formed at the Stonehenge Solstice Festival in 1982 by guitarist Ed Wynne, and since then have become a cult band in British psychedelia. Around the leader, various musicians rotated in and out (up to twelve at a time), including John Egan on flute, Nick Van Gelder on drums, Tom Brooks on synthesizers, Roly Wynne on bass, Paul Hankin on percussion, and Joie Hinton on keyboards (also leader of Ullulators, Oroonies, and Eat Static). This variable ensemble is, however, consistent in performing an exclusively instrumental, ethnic, and tribal “spacerock.” All their recordings are self-released on their Dovetail label. Their shows are “events” in which the music is only one component: Fruit Salad features an array of slide projectors and screens of every shape, fireworks, and psychedelic lights. The overall effect was perfectly suited for ’90s raves.

Their earliest recordings were initially released only on cassette and were first anthologized on Afterswish (Dovetail, 1991) and later reissued on CD in the boxed set Vitamen Enhanced (Dovetail, 1994): Erpsongs and Tantric Obstacles in 1985, Live Ethereal Cereal and There Is Nothing in 1986, and Sliding Gliding Worlds in 1988, with previously unreleased tracks collected on The Bits Between the Bits (Dovetail, 1994). This repertoire was mostly made up of relatively short and rough tracks, but the stylistic progression was impressive, evolving from the amateur acid rock of their early years to electronic, danceable progressive rock.

Ed Wynne had also been part of an obscure underground group, Nodens Ictus, whose output was later collected on Spacelines (Stretchy, 2000).

The first vinyl album is Pungent Effulgent (Demi Monde, 1989), which features the important addition of Merv Pepler on drums and, in embryo, already points toward the future. Dissolution opens with all instruments keeping rhythm before launching into a frenzied gallop, over which a stratospheric guitar solo erupts.

Apart from the rich, boiling jazz-rock of the long track Ayurvedic, the rest of the album places that compact, sparkling sound in less vigorous, more atmospheric contexts. In fact, it is almost new age in the trance of the celestial chords of Phalarn Dawn, and reminiscent of Jon Hassell in Shaping The Pelm, with its exotic tribalism and its warped vocalizations. The emotional nadir is reached in the pow-wow for drunken aliens of Agog In The Ether. The tracks have an open structure, always ready to assimilate any musical idea; but when they coagulate around a strong core, they gain a terrifying force. This is the case with The Domes Of G'bal, which from a crackling sequencer produces a heavy dub rhythm immersed in electronic streamers, and Wreljch, driven by the overwhelming cadence of Chrome’s cybernetic nightmares.
At full throttle, the tracks race at supersonic speed, the harmonies are razor-sharp bullets, and the guitars are furnaces of deafening hisses. The cohesion of the sound continues a trajectory begun in British rock with the “total” jams of Colosseum. Instrumental rock at the end of the century picks up from here.

Erpland (Demi Monde, 1990), recorded by what had become a ten-unit ensemble (including two electronic keyboards, a sampler, four percussionists, flute, bass, guitar), is another instrumental tour de force and stands as a virtual compendium of rock music. The eight-minute overture Eternal Wheel serves well as an introduction, Pepler's fluid drumming joining a series of virtuoso displays, from Wynne's metal guitar solos and hard-rock riffs to Hinton's mock keyboard noises and Indian melodies, from Egan's middle-eastern flute to Pepler's own accelerations, which are simply breathtaking. Rhythm is the glue that keeps together acrobatic jams like Tidal Convergence, its cosmic fluctuations, melodic progressions, tempo shifts and harsh counterpoint.
Hankin's percussions and Egan's flute highlight brief ethnic sketches such as Toltec Spring and Sunscape, overflowing with rhythmic, timbric and harmonic references to Indian and South American folklore. Mysticum Arabicola adds a cornucopia of instruments and expands on that concept, unleashing a swirling, seductive belly dance. Valley Of A Thousand Thoughts is a fantastic journey through a haunting, suspenseful jungle, laden with sounds that recreate not only the wildlife but also the human rites, almost an audio documentary of primitive emotions and Ozric Tentacles' personal take on "fourth world" music.
The Throbbe, perhaps the best piece in this "ethnic" vein, careens at a martial dub pace, with muezzin-style wailing and rocket-like guitar (reminiscent of Helios Creed).
Erpland is the "rock and roll" number on the album, a spirited boogie that the guitar uses as a springboard to indulge in country twang and reggae-ified staccato.
Iscence is the most radio-friendly track, a melodic reggae vaudeville that sounds like a light diversion compared with the other complex scores of the album (but no less harmonically rich).
The orchestration of Cracker Blocks is a model of unity in discontinuity, as cascading electronic tones and tinkling percussions create a thick, hypnotic texture.
The closing composition, A Gift of Wings, summarizes the mood of the album with ten minutes of musical nirvana: languid drones, bubbling electronics, wailing synthesizers, didjeridoo-like buzzing, thick percussions, sampled voices and Turkish strings, a colorful festival of sounds, a galloping symphonic poem.
The quantity of cues, ideas and experiments is overwhelming. Each is realized with slick magisterial precision. Each piece boast an almost baroque elegance. Progressive-rock has seldom been so pleasant to listen to. Ozric Tentacles' ancestors are not the King Crimsons and the Soft Machines, but the humbler Colosseum of the gorgeous Valentine Suite.

With the sextet finally stabilized (Ed Wynne, Roly Wynne, John Egan, Joie Hinton, Merv Pepler, Paul Hankin), Strangeitude (Demi Monde, 1991) is the album that brought them to a wider audience. White Rhino Tea is exemplary of their "Seventies revival," as it weaves together Tangerine Dream sequencers, the most frantic jazz-rock, Hendrix-style blues-rock, Utopia (Todd Rundgren) breaks, and a way of remixing all these sound sources reminiscent of Mike Oldfield’s suites. Medieval guitar passages and Arab-cosmic synth hisses in the pan-ethnic jump of Saucers, jazzed guitar and flute solos in the exotic moves (a touch of rai) of Bizarre Bazaar, progressively enrich the stylistic palette.

Sploosh incorporates electronic effects and a melodic keyboard crescendo over an obsessive rhythm; the result is one of the rave classics of the year. Equally danceable is the title track, a series of variations and samplings on another Eastern theme. In all its transformations, this is still the improvised solo guitar jam that was popular in the 1970s. Live Throbbe shows how these theme variations are in fact related to the guitar deliria of Helios Creed. The most sui generis atmosphere may be that of Space Between Your Ears, propelled by strong dub shocks and then entrusted to an enchanting flute.

What triumphs in these loquacious displays of performative imagination is above all Wynne’s love for Arabic music. After all, properly produced, their sound is a fusion of the most popular styles.

Apart from live recordings, outtakes, and anthologies, the Ozrics’ discography was already substantial by 1993, when they became famous: Jurassic Shift debuted at number one on the UK charts, something that had never happened before for an independent label. Jurassic Shift (Dovetail, 1993) essentially just arranges and produces “ŕ la mode” their long-standing experiments, and their ’70s-style fusion serves as an ideal complement to the prevailing new age, ambient, and cosmic music: Sunhair blends Tangerine Dream sequencers with guitar jams, the jam in Half Light In Thillai is pure world music, and the absurd theme of Stretchy enlivens old-school jazz-rock. The whole is a celebration of echoes from Frank Zappa, Jethro Tull, and Gong.

The fusion reaches spectacular levels in the two longest tracks, Feng Shui and Jurassic Shift, which renew the art of the multi-headed suite ŕ la Colosseum and Iron Butterfly. They are lucid and elegant fantasies, smooth and sensual, packaging a large quantity of high-class sonic events. The first track’s palette ranges from cosmic synth bubbles to heavy-metal surges. The texture of the second is even better blended, making it difficult to distinguish individual elements. The sound loses its raw freshness, often becomes monotonous and predictable, and almost always fails on the humor front. Yet the Ozrics found the right compromise between relaxation and energy, satisfying different - even opposing - segments of the audience.

The power dynamics within the group (reduced to five following the departure of Roly Wynne and Paul Hankin, with Zia Geelani joining on bass) seem almost reversed on the next album, Arborescence (Dovetail, 1994), since the “noble” part of the sound is actually the infected techno (Dance Of The Loomi and There's A Planet Here) and exotic elements (Al Salloq and Shima Koto). The most typical track, Yog-Bar-Og (ten minutes long), doesn’t go very far; the opening track, Astro Cortex, seems more like a homage to the space jazz-rock of Gong. Perhaps two albums in one year are too much for Wynne.

Become The Other (Dovetail, 1995) is the first album to entirely dispense with contributions from Pepler and Hinton. Wynne’s lineup now leans on keyboardist Christopher Lenox-Smith, alongside the faithful John Egan and a rhythm section that, in addition to Zia Geelani, includes two new percussionists. Nevertheless, it is the keyboards that dominate from start to finish. Cat, Ghedengi, Wob Glass, Neurochasm, and Become the Other present a “living-room” progressive rock for the new age audience. Vibuthi is the epic track of the album, but it pales in comparison to its predecessors. The sound is almost unrecognizable, as if it had been remixed by someone else.

Curious Corn (Mad Fish, 1997) is another disappointment. The quintet plays like mature sessionmen who merely reenact their routine. Afroclonk, a percussive feast, and Curious Corn add more "ethnic" sounds to their stew. Spyroid and Meander relax the sound to the point of neutralizing the efferevescence that used to be Ozric's main weapon. Their parable is ever more similar to late-period Gong: excellent musicianship, but hardly anything to remember.

Spice Doubt (Streaming, 1998) is the soundtrack to a live Internet event.

Waterfall Cities (Stretchy, 1999) is equally well-executed but fundamentally predictable progressive-rock (Coily), with an increasing tendency towards ethereal new-age music (Waterfall City, Aura Borealis) and enchanted world fusion (Ch'ai, Sultana Detrii) and, in general, towards simplicity (the melody of Spiralmind).

The seven tracks on The Hidden Step (Stretchy, 2000), first studio album in three years, featuring the usual virtuoso displays (Holohedron) and intricate fantasies (Tight Spin, The Hidden Step), continue Wynne's quest for a land at the border between world-music, electronica and psychedelia, but with no new insight in the territory that he has been roaming for so long. Pixel Dream, Aramanu and Ta Khut weave icy tapestries that comprise threads of Tangerine Dream, Third Ear Band and Harold Budd.

The band basically ceased to exist after Swirly Termination (2000), that sounds like a collection of leftovers. Spirals in Hyperspace (2004) was de facto an Ed Wynne solo album, and so were the albums that followed, each increasingly more electronic and frigid: The Floor's Too Far Away (2006), with incursionsin techno music, The Yumyum Tree (2009), Wasps & Moths (2010), with the twelve-minute Spaced Jam, until the horrible Paper Monkeys (2011).

Eternal Wheel (2004) is probably the best anthology.