{"id":321,"date":"2010-09-01T05:24:47","date_gmt":"2010-09-01T10:24:47","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/blog.musoscribe.com\/?p=321"},"modified":"2010-09-01T05:24:47","modified_gmt":"2010-09-01T10:24:47","slug":"album-review-poobah","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"http:\/\/blog.musoscribe.com\/index.php\/2010\/09\/01\/album-review-poobah\/","title":{"rendered":"Album Review: Poobah &#8211; Let Me In"},"content":{"rendered":"<p><img loading=\"lazy\" decoding=\"async\" src=\"http:\/\/musoscribe.com\/images\/poobah_let_me_in.jpg\" align=\"right\" border=\"1\" height=\"300\" hspace=\"10\" vspace=\"10\" width=\"300\" \/>Most critics simply despised <strong>Black Sabbath<\/strong> when they came on the scene. And they continued to hate them for many years afterward. My well-worn 1979 copy of the <em>Rolling Stone Record Guide<\/em> awards all but one of their <strong>Ozzy<\/strong>-era albums a single star each; <strong>Ken Tucker<\/strong> calls them out on what he sees as their music\u2019s stupidity, intractability and \u201cgoofy malevolence.\u201d But, as the fictional <strong>David St. Hubbins<\/strong> of <strong>Spinal Tap<\/strong> might respond, \u201cThat\u2019s nitpicking, innit?\u201d<\/p>\n<p>Clearly the word subtlety would be misapplied in regard to Sabbath. Their music was aimed squarely at the listener\u2019s solar plexus. But what a punch it delivered. Other bands attempted to build upon that style, but few met with great commercial success, and fewer still shifted units in the record shops.<\/p>\n<p>In 1972 a Midwestern band called <strong>Poobah <\/strong>released their debut album, a six-song album titled <em>Let Me In<\/em>. The record is now impossibly rare; original vinyl copies change hands (when they surface at all) for upwards of $600. And now the album has been reissued.<\/p>\n<p>But while in all likelihood the main people clamoring for a modern-day release of this hard rock obscurity are collectors and amateur rock historians, the album itself deserved to enjoy success among a much wider audience.<\/p>\n<p>Without a doubt, there\u2019s a malevolent streak to some of the music on <em>Let Me In<\/em>. The album opens with a brief, off-putting vocal skit concerning a kid and a gun. But then the band kicks in with a signature tune, \u201cMr. Destroyer.\u201d Boasting a set-on-stun guitar tone that will bring smiles to anyone who\u2019s enjoyed <em>Paranoid <\/em>(an album which <em>Rolling Stone<\/em> grudgingly awarded <em>two <\/em>stars), the power trio drones some proto-stoner rock. The other elements of the song \u2013 assured yet busy bass lines, wah-wah\u2019d guitars, precise and forceful press rolls (the latter a favored technique of Poobah drummer <strong>Glenn Wiseman<\/strong>) \u2013 all move it along.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cEnjoy What You Have\u201d heads in a completely different stylistic direction. Sounding more like <strong>Bubble Puppy<\/strong> crossed with <strong>Blind Faith<\/strong>, here Poobah dials back the heaviness. They even add some pretty harmonies. And while leader, guitarist and Poobah mainstay <strong>Jim Gustafson<\/strong> consistently turns in some interesting and compelling guitar work, it\u2019s the inventive drumming of Wiseman \u2013 think of a more controlled <strong>Keith Moon<\/strong> \u2013 that elevates what would otherwise be merely a good country-flavored rock tune.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cLive to Work\u201d is built around a thudding, bluesy bass figure, with wailing vocals, droning guitar and more press rolls. It\u2019s a good tune, notable mainly for Gustafson\u2019s guitar solo; <strong>Ted Nugent<\/strong> fans take note.<\/p>\n<p>On \u201cBowleen\u201d the band truly comes into its own. After a <strong>Donald Duck<\/strong>-like spoken intro, the menacing melody begins, with a feel a bit like <strong>Pink Floyd<\/strong>\u2019s \u201cSet the Controls for the Heart of the Sun.\u201d But when the almost-chanted dual lead vocal comes in, it\u2019s even spookier. The tempo picks up, then slows back down, and the minimalist lyrics repeat. Gustafson spins out some clanking guitar leads, and then \u2013 as the tempo again accelerates \u2013 he engages in some shrieking vocals that sound like a cross between <strong>Uriah Heep<\/strong>\u2019s <strong>David Byron<\/strong>, <strong>Robert Plant<\/strong> and <strong>Roky Erickson<\/strong>. Beating the <strong>Tubes<\/strong>\u2019 \u201cWhite Punks on Dope\u201d to the punch by two years, a toilet flush ends the song.<\/p>\n<p>Next up it\u2019s a song actually called \u201cRock \u2018N\u2019 Roll.\u201d Yeah, honestly. Here Poobah is treading in <strong>Foghat <\/strong>territory. The shrieks are even more prominent in this song, and they work better in the context. More press rolls, too! A <strong>Jimmy Page<\/strong>-like solo precedes Gustafson&#8217;s wailing of the song\u2019s catchphrase. Poetry it ain\u2019t, but this song will get heads nodding and fists pumping. It was in all likelihood a killer tune when Poobah opened for the heavy headliners of the era.<\/p>\n<p>The original album wraps up with the title track. All the heaviness remains, but there\u2019s plenty of texture; Poobah seems intent on avoiding musical monotony. The song\u2019s lyrics are perhaps the weakest on the album, but they\u2019re also not the primary focus. A drum solo owes more than a little to <strong>Iron Butterfly<\/strong>, but the song\u2019s underlying beat is kept throughout. Excessive, perhaps, but do keep in mind that this was 1972. A wankety-wank guitar solo (in the early 70s meaning of the term: <em>no other instruments<\/em>) follows, and it all winds up with an all-in ending.<\/p>\n<p>The original album was recorded at Peppermint Productions in Youngstown Ohio; that studio may be known to powerpop fans as the recording site of most of <strong>Blue Ash<\/strong>\u2019s material. The reissue is clearly mastered from the original tapes: the frequency range is astonishing, and displays unexpected depth for a little-noticed recording from nearly forty years ago.<\/p>\n<p>All this would have been enough to warrant reissue. But Gustafson &#8212; who still fronts Poobah, albeit with different supporting musicians \u2013 is intent on giving value for money. So the 2010 reissue serves up no less than twelve \u2013 count \u2018em \u2013 <em>twelve <\/em>bonus tracks dating from 1972 and 1973. And with few exceptions, these tracks are the equal of the original album\u2019s quality.<\/p>\n<p>Highlights of the bonus portion include the lo-fi droner-stoner instro track \u201cUpside Down Highway\u201d (Poobah at their most Sabbath-like, recorded live in Gustafson\u2019s living room) and a single edit of \u201cBowleen.\u201d And while \u201cGoing to Rock City\u201d is little more than a more tuneful rewrite of \u201cRock \u2018N\u2019 Roll,\u201d it\u2019s arguably a <em>better <\/em>tune, especially with its exhortation to audience participation. The comic-book-horror lyrics of \u201cWalk of the Bug\u201d are good for a chuckle, and the riffage isn\u2019t bad, either.<\/p>\n<p>The booklet includes lyrics to all the songs, plus black-and-white photos of the \u201972 band. They look exactly like you\u2019d expect them too, all hairy, bearded and slightly menacing. But the album is \u201cdedicated with love and peace to the world,\u201d so there\u2019s nothing to fear. <em>Trust us<\/em>.<\/p>\n<p>While I can\u2019t speak to the content or quality of subsequent Poobah releases \u2013 and there have been many, none of which I\u2019ve heard \u2013 I can attest to this: on this reissue of <em>Let Me In<\/em>, Poobah is indeed grand.<\/p>\n<p><center><a href=\"http:\/\/www.twitter.com\/the_musoscribe\" class=\"body\">Follow \u201cthe_musoscribe\u201d on <img loading=\"lazy\" decoding=\"async\" src=\"http:\/\/musoscribe.com\/images\/icon_twitter_small.jpg\" valign=\"middle\" border=\"0\" height=\"18\" hspace=\"1\" vspace=\"0\" width=\"18\" \/> Twitter<\/a> and get notifiedwhen new features, reviews and essays are published.<\/p>\n<p style=\"font-size: 9px\"> DISCLOSURE OF MATERIAL CONNECTION:<\/p>\n<p><a href=\"http:\/\/cmp.ly\/1\" target=\"_blank\"><img decoding=\"async\" src=\"http:\/\/musoscribe.com\/images\/cmply_1.png\" alt=\"I have a material connection because I received a sample or review copy, or an item of nominal value that I can keep for consideration in preparing to write this content. I was\/am expected to return this item after my review.\" border=\"0\" \/><\/a><\/p>\n<p><\/center><\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"<p>Most critics simply despised Black Sabbath when they came on the scene. And they continued to hate them for many years afterward. My well-worn 1979 copy of the Rolling Stone [&hellip;]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"closed","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"_exactmetrics_skip_tracking":false,"footnotes":""},"categories":[65],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-321","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-review","cat-65-id"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"http:\/\/blog.musoscribe.com\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/321","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"http:\/\/blog.musoscribe.com\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"http:\/\/blog.musoscribe.com\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/blog.musoscribe.com\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/blog.musoscribe.com\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=321"}],"version-history":[{"count":0,"href":"http:\/\/blog.musoscribe.com\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/321\/revisions"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"http:\/\/blog.musoscribe.com\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=321"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/blog.musoscribe.com\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=321"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/blog.musoscribe.com\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=321"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}