Now, it’s no exaggeration in any shape, way or form to say that Monster Magnet changed my life. And they changed it with ‘Powertrip’. A mind-blowing slab of pre-millennial hard rock – rage, psychosis, lust, lunacy, nihilism and despair given form. An album that simply could not have been made at any previous point in the history of recorded music, it easily sits next to any of the great milestones. Or rather, it RECLINES next to those records, and makes rude comments about their mothers.
Now just imagine YOU have to follow that.
Magnet appeared to decide that they couldn’t, so, having already destroyed the stoner-rock template, they then went off exploring new corners of the new-yet-retro sound they’d found and perfected. Even when they recorded a cover version, it was done in a way that seemed like it was done in reverence to a lost classic, and was done to introduce US to a lost gem we’d probably overlooked, as it was only released on vinyl on Denmark in 1975. It never felt like a band stuck for inspiration or a band resting on their laurels after releasing a masterpiece.
Sometimes it worked.
Sometimes it didn’t.
“I don’t know where I’m going but at least I ain’t standing still”
(Dig that Hole)
At least they were doing something new each time – new angles, new targets to aim at and succinctly take down with dry wit and counter-culture in-jokes.
“Mastermind” continues the exploration. And takes it full circle.
If ‘Powertrip’ was a tale of Dave Wyndorf reaching the end of the rainbow and finding an IOU, then ‘Mastermind’ is getting there and finding a bill.
“I’m a stone jet fighter with a heart of gold; Well, I’m really mad, and I’m REALLY Old’
(Gods and Punks)
The production is a master stroke – simultaneously crisp AND fuzzy: you can hear every spooky effect and guitar solo in perfect clarity, and yet it never feels over polished. It’s as raw as a salted wound: you feel that if there was a rough edge to leave, they left it. This is an album you can get splinters from.
Yet, somehow, it’s also an album to sit on beanbags and stare at lava-lamps to.
United again with long-time ally Matt Hyde (Powertrip), Monster Magnet seem, well, ‘rejuvenated’ is what you’d expect to read, but I’m not going to say it. ‘Rejuvenated’ implies an injection of youth. ‘Seasoned’ is closer – Magnet sound harder and more focused; they sound like they’re DRIVEN to make the biggest album any universe has ever seen. Maybe ‘Veteran’ is closer – Dave has always written as if he’s Capt. Willard, hunting his elusive Colonel Kurtz: the difference is, this time around he’s made peace with HIS demons, and he’s coming for YOURS.
Dave sounds more bitter and cynical than he ever has; when he’s ‘Dave Wyndorf -Spacelord Motherfucker’ his voice could shatter the planets and steal your girl; when he’s ‘Dave Wyndorf – Powertripper’ you can hear his grin and raised eyebrow; and when he’s just ‘Dave Wyndorf’ (the comic book fan, who always stays fourteen) you feel his pain, regret and torment.
‘I think I’ll go to 1969: buy some comic books and replay my whole life’
(Time Machine)
This sounds like an album made by an OLD band: a band not yet ancient, decrepit and ready to throw in the towel; but a band who’ve had time to see how the world works; to see the cyclical nature of how inane trends come and go, again and again. To watch how we can make the same mistake over and over again. And just shake their heads at us, themselves and the world in general. Then offer advice and criticism that’ll cut through your soul.
Like fucking YODA, or some shit……
Seriously.
This is an album that ticks every one of Magnet’s trademarks, and then some. There are so many points in the BIG ROCK TUNES where you ARE THERE – in a sweaty crowd as twin guitarists Phil Caivano and Ed Mundell step forward just as the spotlights hit them, and the light reflected from their guitar’s scratch plates burns through your eyeballs and fires every neuron in your frontal lobe. There are others when you’re in a darkened smoky den, and all you are aware of is the reflection from Dave’s aviator shades, and you know he’s sitting there like Satan’s own fighter ace, dispensing the sort of cryptic wisdom that is not bought but earned.
Yes there’s the classic Magnet riffery here (the guitars in ‘Time Machine’ alone are so thick and velvety you could live in them for months); and there’re lyrics that’ll you’ll instantly feel a kinship to, but which will have you puzzling over for years to come.
I don’t really want to say ‘MAGNET ARE BACK’, because they’ve never been away. While some of their albums may not quite have hit EVERY mark, they hit most, and their live show is, and always has been second to NONE. This is more a case of ‘The needle’s hitting the run-out groove, so let’s turn the record over and listen to side one again.’
Monster Magnet have always looked, acted and (most crucially) sounded like the biggest and best rock band that have ever, or will ever, existed. ‘Mastermind’ confirms this, and can stand proudly next to its older brother ‘Powertrip’. This is the return of Monster Magnet in the form of the Spacelord – ‘Mastermind’ is Magnet distilled, condensed, concentrated, exaggerated and amplified.
This is the roar of the Bullgod ascendant.
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