15 October 2005

FROGG CAFE "Noodles" - USA 6/26/02



"Noodles" is the big cat kit and kaboodle, get your choogle-doogle train a-rollin', this motherjumper is strollin'. Funk me, chump me, baby, pump me full o' this Froggy pasta love. If you don't like it, Sussy will blind you with refracted stagelights and drown you in a pool of his sweat, aisle bet...

Starting off in a nice Italian joke dialogue scherzo, lé Café lets you know this is going to be a wild and loose one, better than any of that lumpy Mr. Toad's bumpy olde ride. As a matter of fact, that's where they start at. Smooth cruising into the land of fusion, slowly building a tasteful crescendo on 'Eliche' at trademark length = 23:34. These blokes know how to build it up nice (& I'm not talking Legos, either). Development is one of their specialties and this track is no exception. Like an early electric Miles Davis side, the wichi-wuonnhh and oooppie-douuete drops to slither across this shiny platter, lathering and frothing it right up around the seven minute mark. Now, this is no longer available (as it was a limited release anyhow), so pop on over to this website and buy your download:


- -> http://www.froggcafe.com/albums.html <- -


. . .so you Khan listen to them carry this into Canterbury realms for yourself, I'm moving on. . . but before I do, have to mention that there is a touch of spacy-ness in here as well, no not Kevin Spacey (you silly goose), but musically, you can be sure to expect the Usual Suspects for the genres mentioned while your silly little birdbrain rolls over on itself flapping away, being cooked violently over this ferocious dish. Yeah, I'm 16:00 into it and now, really, you will have to go and listen for your own pleasure. The Italian method also abounds.

'Fusilli' corners the market on the out there vibe from Sensations Fix drinking Tangerine soup (Ruby)con carne in a livid Dream and then doubles it up over a pole to sear it off at the edges towards the end. After gently wending electronic schism, the track pops off its top. Thumpty-bumpty Zeuhl earth-bass meets the sinuous guitar of a few Phil Miller-isms pasted over the pointilization of a one Fred Frith-y if he wasn't always gnoshing so hearty RIO. Wendy, windey, gosh me blimey licks from the the stringy-stick, abrupt ending.

'Orecchiette' immediately GRABS YOU into an Italian symphonic flair corn pone.

The same coda is repeated for the 'Tagliarini' to come:

Ooooh, my neck is bopping, there's no stopping the writing to music this now, wow - - -VOLL-YOOM - - here we zOOM........ I am not heading in to work (just yet) to write this long overdue review cause Sussy is tired of "bee-hotching" me into doing it and now I really remember the funky brown cow that told me to write about this album first. Pop and lock on a crock pot this track is super hot and it sizzles up a side of Sussloaf, the other white beat. Hard to say how and where these honkies got their Fonzie fonkies, but they got 'em & gettum good - dig their smack-lip trip coming off these fingertips - I shouldn't hafta' tell you much about the music since you can see how my verbals are inspired so, but I will try to do so any whey so you don't curdle your milkypuffs trying to ride my cipher caper blessed by nature supe-reams. Going back to the top, coda is a lively piano riff repeated freakeebo, tun-ta-tun-tunt-tun, tun-ta-tun-tunt-tuyn-taa REPEAT ad infinitum (for a while, anyway). "I spent a lot of time in the outback. . . I love the koalas and the wallabees. . ." is the vocalese being spewed on the interspersal throughout. Sometimes the bass follows along and repeats the coda too, when that's not happening, feel the grumble rumble riddim - this ain't no pasty raggy-gay. Paganotti comes to mind. Drumkit skitters throughout, right on time and propulsion jet-fuel-duelling to incite big bites of 'get busy and rock this taping joint!' Ponty wishes he was on this set for the violin licks soaring around the mephistophoskies. And yes, the trumpet pumps it. This mugger puts the stun to your head for a little over 14 minutes. By the time it's over, you feel like you just met Charles Bronson on the train at ten to midnight - whapping listeners upside the head like a sock full of quarters & leavin' 'em there with a funny-lookin' hair-dryer contraption-thing, eyes glazed over and something that looks like snot caked on pants turning into crystal like Arthur Lee said on 'Live and Let Live' in "Forever Changes." If it weren't for the rave advance verbiage about the upcoming "Fortunate Observer of Time" - I would be ranking this with the equivalency diploma of what the aforementioned album o' Love signifies for the succinctness of the musical massage. Now I have to wait for my advance Promo copy to tell if its true - this time, I promise you Froggy goons that the review will come on strong and soon in time to boon. 'Tagliarini' ends with: "Keep an eye out for the Dingoes." - Frickin' Ze Le Parc right, exit stage yikes, this is a HOT ONE - d'ya get that from this spluttering blubbering yet?

The last track, 'Capelli Dangelo,' is nothing short of a lost Magma meets Fusioon in a padded Flubber room, sans the Kobaian with the ray-gun falling mainly on the playin', crunch taters shredded on the slide w/ Mashing Molé sauce session. The last (laughing) words are "Didja' like it?" My response, as if you could not tell awww-ready, is a resounding YES!

So, if you like your fusion to be well-informed by Zeuhl, Italian symph & hot prog chicks* - this is IT!! The ticket for you is "Noodles" and a nice tall brewy-oowy-ooh!

*Not viable/available in all areas.

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