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The tale is straight outta Hollywooda group of rowdy ex-U.S. servicemen stranded in West Germany form a band called the Monks to make some extra dough, invent a whacked-out stage show complete with prerequisite Medieval schtick, win loyal fans in the same kind of ramshackle Berlin haunts that the Beatles played, and leave to the ages a classic LP that has transcended its humble roots to become one of rock 'n' roll's great lost treasures. Wacky part is that it's all true. TheMonks' debut album, "Black Monk Time," has made it's American debut, as a compact disc,31 years too late, and the awesome little slab of prehistoric punk andway-out psychotronic garage rock is worth of every bit of the hype. Imagine "Wooly Bully" crossed with the scrappy sound of The early Fall (who have covered many Monks songs),wrap all that up with the drum sound of the Strangeloves' "I LoveCandy" and Lou Reed's fuzzed-tone Velvets guitar wranglings. . . andyou've ALMOST got the quirky, lyrically demented, melodically catchy din that the Monks invented way back in 1966. Choosing to blast through the language barrier, this kooky quintet performed tom-tom heavy, riff-riddensuper-rock, with crazed and often hilarious vocals by the scary GaryBurger, who was only too aware that his "target demo" couldn't understand a vowel of his demented, frenzied spew. The band's harmonies were another matter entirely; over the landscape of Burger'scaterwauling (that's really the only word for it) and those catchy buzzsaw footstomps, the rest of the group echo the repetitive, distorted rhythms like a gaggle of speed-freak beached boys. The first 30 seconds sets the tone "Hello my name's Gary / Let's go! /it's Beat time it's hop time it's monk time / you know we don't like the army you say what army who cares what army / What about all those kids in Vietnam? / Mad Viet Com! / My brother died in Vietnam / JamesBond-- who's he? (Crash, loud noise) / Stop it! / I don't like it / It's too loud for my ears / Pussy Galore is coming down and we like it / We don't like the Atomic Bomb {heavy drum beats} / Stop it stop it stop it I don't like it /What's your meaning, Larry? / Ah-- you think like I think / You're a Monk / We're all Monks!" The sheer audacity of the opening cut would be enough to ensure the legend of "Black Monk Time"-- (plenty of "classic" '60's garage bands didn't even have one cut this potent and unrelenting)-- but from there you've got "I Hate You," a primordial ooze of a hateful rant if there ever was one; the searing "Oh How To Do Now," which introduces a fuzzed out lead guitar that precedes Hendrix, Beck, et alin the destructive possibilities of a foot pedal; ace rave ups like"Girls are Girls and Boys are Choice" and "Complications"(sample lyric "People cry / People die for you / People kill /People will for you"), a bevy of soused singalongs(Higgle-dy-Piggle-dy," "Drunken Maria"), and a shout-it-out alienation anthem ("Shut Up") just perfect for blaring around the house on YOUR next bad hair day. The addition of distorted banjo only adds to the warped-out sonics. Not groovy. Anti-groovy. "Black Monk Time" would have been a strong contender for Best LP even in heady 1966. It's a runaway in 1997. -- Don Harrison
(Postscript, Dec. '98 I'm now told that Black Monk Time has gone out of print once again in the U.S.! Willwe never learn??-- D.H.)
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