Malojian. Let Your Weirdness Carry You Home

a1294981180_16OK, this album’s been kicking around since last October but it’s only recently that Blabber’n’Smoke acquired a copy and one listen propelled it straight to the top of the reviews bundle. Malojian is essentially Irishman Stevie Scullion and Let Your Weirdness Carry You Home is his fourth long player. It finds him moving on from the melodic folk based songs of his early albums to a full blown psychedelic fuzziness souped up with a fine dose of power pop. There are healthy nods to Beatles whimsy, Donovan dippiness and Jeff Lynne’s grasp of pop with Scullion wrapping them all up into a very attractive package.

A couple of the songs hark back to his earlier style, the pastoral Hanging On The Glow is ethereal, lifted by a gently swelling string section while the hipster baiting Beard Song, played on piano, opens as if Scullion is inhabiting the soul of Harry Nilsson before an excellent trumpet solo from Linley Hamilton raises itself above the bar room playing. There’s also an excellent instrumental break in the form of Broken Light Company (Theme) in the middle of the album with its delicious old time waltz feel recalling Neil Innes’ Book of Records theme while the seagulls squawking towards the end remind one that much of this album was recorded in a lighthouse.

The meat of the album however is when Scullion starts rooting around in his Strawberry Fields allotment. Opening song, Some New Bones is a lysergic balm, an almost Eastern drone throbs throughout the song while disembodied voices whisper and guitars flow backwards. A New Armageddon seems to float over the excellent percussion (from Joey Waronker) with its keyboard melody eventually overtaken by crashing guitars and a swooning cello, it creates a mood which is then elevated by the energetic surge which is Battery, driven by a Kraut rock drum beat and riffing cellos it’s magnificently  hazy. However Scullion tops this with the extremely trippy Ambulance Song, a real peek into the psychedelic toy box of 1960’s dandified Carnaby Street pop. It transports one back to patchouli scented days with its perfect amalgamation of dappled guitars playing what seems to be an Eastern scale, baroque strings and a closing berserk harmonica solo, a real nugget of a song and that’s not to mention its creepy lyrics. The title song closes the album and it’s a slight return to the opening only more urgent and twice as long. The drumming here is like Ringo’s on Strawberry Fields Forever while strings and fuzz guitar buzz and drone becoming more demented as the song progresses with Scullion breathily intoning the title.

In a way this album deserves to be considered anew despite it coming from last year as it will be perfect for the forthcoming better days, its psychedelic sunshine sounds just perfect for some balmy weather. Whatever, it’s a magnificent listen.


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