Side 1
1. Gone Tomorrow 1:22
2. Chinese Apples 3:44
3. Secrets Of The Spider World 4:02
4. Honey Stick 1:59
5. Blonde On Blonde 4:18
6. Lemon Grove Kids 6:17

Side 2
1. Rosewater Crescent 1:51
2. Autumnal Void 3:29
3. Pink Grapefruit Cocktail 2:30
4. Peking Opera Blues 3:34
5. Hideous Sun Demon 7:08
6. Do You Dig Worms? 1:55

The mid 90s was a time when it was the done thing to reference Brian Wilson; from The Boo Radleys to Stereolab, and the burgeoning Elephant 6 collective, a lot of bands were taking cues from the achievements of the head Beach Boy circa 1965–6, his peak years of creativity. So fashionable was this approach that some bands unashamedly drew attention to their borrowings by ripping their album and song titles straight from Beach Boys bootlegs, at the same time serving to show just how clued-up they were. One such example is ‘Landlocked’ by Witch Hazel, a 5‑piece from Ohio, who seemed so keen to show they had all the right influences that they listed them at great length on the sleeve. Taking its title from an unreleased 1971 Beach Boys album, and bookended with brief snatches of self-indulgence with titles appropriated from ‘Pet Sounds’ and ‘Smile’, it’s easy to assume that the album will be little more than a Beach Boys tribute, a suspicion seemingly confirmed by a perusal of the credits which reveals a theremin among the instruments played by co-songwriter/producer Kevin Coral, and a publishing company called Bubblegum Smile (slogan: ‘A teenage symphony in every groove’).

But this really is a very worthwhile album, for two main reasons. Firstly, it has a handful of songs that are actually very good indeed (and for all the references only really sound like the band themselves), and secondly (and perhaps most importantly), it was recorded in a basement studio on a low budget, and is therefore devoid of production techniques which might make it sound dated to today’s ears (it is also thankfully free from contemporary fads such as trip hop or grunge). Without large funds at their disposal, the band go for a Make Do And Mend approach and litter the album with the sort of effects which can be obtained for free: shortwave radio recordings, backwards tapes and guitar feedback are carefully applied to provide a somewhat otherworldly ambience. If anything, a slicker, more expensive production would have robbed the album of many of its more endearing qualities, the lapses into under-achievement lending it a certain charm, and the slightly hazy, lo-fi quality providing an element of mystery in keeping with the cryptic song titles, none of which bear any relation to the lyrics. As the enigmatically named Mark F. sings in his hushed, mannered, slightly nasal voice in the opening lines of ‘Chinese Apples’: ‘This was so much less than I had hoped for/But it doesn’t seem to matter anyway’.

Opening fragment ‘Gone Tomorrow’ (a deliberate inversion of The Beach Boys’ ‘Here Today’) sets the tone in a perfunctory but reasonably effective way, the chiming bells of what sounds like the German speaking clock accompanied by backward tapes leading into doleful organ chords and wordless vocal harmonies, closely miked so that you can hear each sharp intake of breath. First song proper ‘Chinese Apples’ bursts into life with briskly strummed acoustic guitars playing a neat little riff and is embellished with a slightly out of tune trumpet on the chorus. ‘Secrets Of The Spider World’ is also primarily acoustic, augmented by sighing backing vocals, the same out-of-tune trumpet, and a depressing keyboard line washing through the entire song. Unlike many of their contemporaries who emphasised multi-layered electric guitar to often deadening effect, Witch Hazel opt for a subtler approach, keeping the textures primarily acoustic so that when they decide to rock out it has more of an impact. This first happens on track 4, ‘Honey Stick’, the weakly recorded drum intro still retaining an element of power since it sounds as if it is fighting to be heard above the guitars, which feedback and swirl cheaply but effectively. The song is the very model of brevity – 3 short verses, an underachieving guitar solo, and an abrupt switch to a slow banjo arpeggio which plays briefly as the feedback finishes its business. The wistful ‘Blonde On Blonde’ takes things back to the acoustic guitar/muted trumpet template, but is followed by a real classic. ‘Lemon Grove Kids’ opens with a sickly violin melody of the sort that might get stuck in your head when lying in bed, unable to sleep and nursing a fever. Well-managed feedback pushes through to a cathartic verse where the remedial power-chords are offset by palsied backing vocals, the song continually returning to the dirgy violin tune for the chorus, which repeats to powerful effect for an extended coda amidst a maelstrom of disembodied shortwave voices and chaotic guitar solos (think David Baker-era Mercury Rev). It’s an excellent close to side one.

The second side opens with ‘Rosewater Crescent’, another rudimentary fragment, with the line ‘I believe in miracles’ sung to a clumsy guitar accompaniment and seemingly recorded on a Dictaphone in the style of ‘My Mummy’s Dead’. The following trio of sweet pop ditties are notable for the way ‘Autumnal Void’ manages to shine despite a poor reduction mix, the return of the backward tapes on ‘Pink Grapefruit Cocktail’, and ‘Peking Opera Blues’s wonky theremin/violin duet. But, good as they are, these tunes merely exist to pave the way for the album’s other lengthy masterpiece. ‘Hideous Sun Demon’ is as uplifting as a song of that title shouldn’t be. The squiggle of a tape rewinding gives way to brief random FX and then, as if cued up a split second too late, switches to a gorgeous little organ riff. Gently strummed acoustic guitar and a warm organ bed support a simple but lovely vocal line with ‘I noticed you/I’m glad you noticed me’ lyrics that are no better than they need to be. As with ‘Lemon Grove Kids’ the opening melody functions as a chorus of sorts, and the whole thing closes with just two chords played endlessly as tambourine, cello, violin and French horn one by one add their own contributions to the mix. It is as beautiful as it is clichéd and it all climaxes with a perfect chord change at 6’20 which takes us back to that simple little organ riff and an untidy ending that sounds as if it thought it was going to be sacrificed to a fade. It is only in the context of this epic song that the closing track, the rather obviously titled ‘Do You Dig Worms’, works. Kicking off with an impression of the studio chatter from the start of the Beatles’ ‘Let It Be’ album, it then copies the talking horns from the ‘Smile’ bootlegs before attempting a slightly inept Beach Boys vocal pastiche of its own. Thankfully there is an abrupt cut to some unsettling looped effects which provide an acceptably strange ending to a mostly very effective LP, which demonstrates how limited means coupled with good ideas can sometimes produce a work that is extremely engaging in its resourcefulness.