Posts Tagged ‘Frankie and the Witch Fingers’

Frankie and the Witch Fingers

Frankie and the Witch Fingers have long found a home here at Raven Sings the Blues. From the garage gutwrench of Heavy Rollers to last year’s psych-soul shakedown, Brain Telephone, the band has been burning more ozone than most and I can’t get enough. Impressively, after that synapse-singer from last year, they’re back and burning on a bigger scale with a double LP for new home Greenway Records. The band doesn’t take a break it seems, and that urgency finds its way into the work. In fact, ZAM’s entire ethos is breathless in nature, boiling their fuzz-dipped licks into a psychedelic steam that’s born to singe.

Taking a few cues from fellow lysergic warlocks Oh Sees, the band is melting down details from Krautrock, funk, soul, psych, and space then ladling them into the loving cup atop the alter of Hawkwind. They’re irradiating the populace with enough high-beam hijinks and amplifier fry to bring on bouts of fuzz-fed hysteria and truth be told; the band has rarely felt more in their element. Barreling down Main like a Tarkus tripped out with half-stacks, rippin’ cracks in the pavement, ZAM is the maelstrom made flesh and set to scorch. This LP certainly isn’t made for mediation, so it’s best to buckle in. ZAM is made for mayhem and motion – grinding out grey matter melters with deadly precision on every track.

While the bulk of the album sees the band in full-form freakout, they do take things down every now and then, just to air out the fallout and survey the damage. The all too brief respites roll the record in a sultry scent of electric sex, slipping into the husk of rock n’ roll’s promise and pulling the straps tight. Thing is, ever time the band turns down the burner, you know they’re only waiting to grab the electrodes, double-charge the groove and send it tearing into town like an acid-fried golem. After an hour or so of psychedelic chaos, they slip off into oblivion and never look back. This is a record built on excesses and its all the better for never reigning in its scope. If you’re prepared to unlock a third, fourth and fifth eye and huff in the fever sweat of the soul, then look no further.




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Frankie and the Witch Fingers – “Pleasure”

Making the jump from Permanent to Greenway, L.A.’s consummate psych-smelters Frankie and the Witch Fingers give the video treatment to their new single “Pleasure” today. The song’s drawing on the same toast-cone overdrive that serves as the beating heart of so many loved lumps from fellow psych crawlers (see: Ty Segall and Oh Sees), but the band gives it an extra layer of leather n’ sleaze. Coming off of the ecstatic sweat revival of Brain Telephone, the band set themselves up a hurdle that was hard to hop, but “Pleasure’s” seething freak fuzz more than does the trick. There’s enough molten mayhem in this track to liquefy your speakers and they up the ante with a xeroxed S&M zine treatment on the video. If this doesn’t get you revved and ready for a new LP from the band, I can’t imagine what would. Long one of L.A.’s most criminally undersung acts, if you’ve been missing on Frankie in the past, I’d recommend getting down this time around.



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Premiere: Frankie & The Witch Fingers – “Sunshine Earthquake”

As they head out on tour L.A.’s Frankie & The Witch Fingers offer up a peek into the psych-soul revival that threads its way throughout their fizzing new album, Brain Telephone. The band has always had a knack for the video format, from the LSD Alice in Wonderland of “Get Down” to the psychedelic noir of “Merry Go Round” and the latest clip just piles on the exploded neon psych vibes that have kept them runnin’ all these years. If you haven’t gotten a chance to check the album, give it a spin and if they’re landing near you, be sure to go get a breath of the real thing. The stage is where they truly shine.

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Frankie & The Witch Fingers

Rolling like heat lightning across the plains, the caravan of Frankie & the Witch Fingers approaches. The mood is calm but practically fizzing with the electricity of anticipation and the promise of a connection to the cosmic crack in the sky that’s always layin’ just out of reach. The band, Shaman and Sidemen alike, is in touch with the soul-soaked vein of psychedelic rock that took lesser men in her arms and bent them past breaking. They don’t look shaken though – far from it, in fact. They’re steel eyed and poised for when the amps tap into the fragrant heat of divine rock n’ roll. Moreover, they’re ready to act as conduits for those willing to submit to the vibrations and open their brain to the next plateau.

The Witch Fingers’ latest is about connection, vibration, ephemeral truths. They’ve tapped into something primal and concrete that’s found its way foaming into the edges of psychedelic communities from Kesey’s barrel of Owsley augmented truth to the very last convulsion of the ayahuasca shakes. Brain Telephone is the key to the fifth dimension, an acid bath for the soul delivered in pulsating waves via fuzz guitar. It’s the band’s own I Ching for those who’d rather find their way through the keyhole via organ-laced sweat revival than in the spines of traditional text. Think of Frankie as your psilocybin Sherpas, your six-string snake healers, your sonic Ouija to the other side. They’ve peered around the corner and just want you to take their hand. You could do worse than to leap without looking. Rock n’ Roll is a cheap thrill born over a hundred times, but at least in this iteration its working to break free.


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Frankie and the Witch Fingers

L.A. psych swingers Frankie and the Witch Fingers are back and tapping into a dank sweat lodge brand of psychedelia that sows its seeds in the euphoric daze that drove Roky Erikson, The Remains and Rudy Martinez (aka the ephemeral Question Mark). They’re looking to find that heat lightning intangibility that crops up when the stars are aligned just right and the crowd is in full sway. “Lernings Of The Light” is a full-on, harp-pocked, blooze-psych blowout that rattles the rafters and picks up the mantle that so many of the class of ’68 left curled and waiting between the tubes of their battered amps. New one is out via Permanent in September.




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