The Deviants: "Deviation Street" (Ptooff!, 1967)
This weekend brought news of the passing of Mick Farren, the great music journalist/musician who was among the earliest of rock's many gadfly characters. In my various travels on the web. I've run into a lot of acquaintances who seemed to know him for his writing; I know him primarily for his music, and especially for his groundbreaking 60s band The Deviants.
The track above, "Deviation Street," is a mix of ripping garage rock, spoken word and musique concrete that nicely prefigures Farren's career as a music writer. It's music-as-music-criticism, in several ways.
First, there's the melting, creepy psychedelic passage after the opening riff where Farren sneeringly describes a jive-talking CIA agent giving drugs to hippies, slapping the flower power scene upside the head and using their own sound to do it. Second, the rock portion of the song, part of which is covered in dubbed-over applause, seems to be a sort of oblique take on The Sonics' "Psycho." Finally, there's the most obvious bit, where a tiny snippet of "Manic Depression" can be heard in the background as an Underground dweller credulously shouts "wow, it's, like, simulating the acid experience.
In 1967, this kind of thing was uncommon--it's like the Mothers of Invention with the Dadaism replaced by pure venom. To say that the Deviants were a preview of punk isn't an exaggeration. They even made their album independently (albeit with the financial backing of a rich friend) and sold it themselves until Decca heard it and signed them.
Farren dipped in and out of music over the years, cutting some solo records and occasionally reconvening the Deviants or working with ex-MC5 guitarist Wayne Kramer. He wrote for International Times and NME, publishing nearly two dozen novels along the way. You can catch his well--known rant about complacency in rock music "The Titanic Sails at Dawn" here.
Farren went out with his boots on, dying on stage last week.