Gomez

Bring it On (Virgin)
by Chris Adams

Somewhere out there, there are very hairy, very dirty, and very fat people who smoke spliffs as fat as a baby’s arm, who sit around in the mud discussing what may or may not be construed as “heavy,” who call each other “Mama” and “Big Daddy” and who wanna “bring it to the streets” and “do it for the people.” To these freaks I present Gomez and Bring It On, a big, stoned, Sunday afternoon of an album which inserts an eggbeater into the brains of the blues, cranks the handle vigorously, and serves it up raw with a side of ‘shrooms. This album is a weird-ass gumbo of psychedelia and sound, funk and blues, earthiness and experimentation that’s as imaginitive, eclectic, and assured as it is bizarre and confusing. The singer sounds like Eddie Vedder gargling gravel – a major turnoff in my book, but that’s just me – and the arrangements and the structures are no doubt the product of some “fine Jamaican skunk-bud, bro.” Listen with bewilderment. Roll me up a big one, mama, them Kozmic Blues is callin’.
(338 N. Foothill Road Beverly Hills, CA 90210)