by Thom Jurek
Here they go again. The tireless Gilli Smyth, Daevid Allen, and Orlando Allen (aka for this date, Gong, that long-lived, acid-crazed hallucinatory wonder and nightmare), are back with I Am Your Egg. More a conceptual recording than a rock record, as if any of them ever were. Smyth, Daevid and Orlando recruit singer Clara Quennfranc, drummer Sam McClain, guitarist Kawabata Makoto (Acid Mothers Temple), and nearly a dozen others to help them realize their rather political vision. A spoken word sound sculpture called &End St. Station& ushers it all in, with Smyth narrating and Quennfranc singing a lonely Celtic song in the backdrop. On the very next track, she wails like a banshee with Allen on what amounts to a punk track called &Sacrifice,& though it's certainly got its space-out aspect. Indian raga meets psychedelia in Orlando Allen's &Melting Love,& with lyrics like &love is a glowing lamp in daylight...& with Smyth reciting the poetry before she and Allen get to singing in their damaged way. It's quite beautiful in its distorted non-narrative way. But what did you expect? Over seven minutes in length, it is the most musically satisfying thing here with jazz trumpets and Smyth's voice wailing in Arabic; it's a love song with real style and the proper sort of vulgarity; it's actually sensual as well as kooky. &Midnight Sun& is two minutes of fractured hippie craziness, but at least it's not Sunburned Hand of the Man going on for an hour without a clue and calling it an album. &Midnight Sun& is a lovely instrumental also by Orlando, full of acoustic guitars and sounds and spaced-out textural touches. &Time in Dilation& with Josh Pollock and Makoto on guitars is utterly glorious weirdness, with Smyth doing her best psychedelic recitation and wailing as the guitars simply pulse and drone; no six-string pyrotechnics here. There is a little more action on the closer, &Memory,& where it's simply the guitarists with nothing else going on. But it's still a drone bliss-out, thankfully, rather an electric six-string wankfest. Ultimately, I Am Your Egg is as good a Gong album as you can expect, and that's saying a lot. It's an utterly seamless if fractured listen, and it proves without question that Smyth, Daevid, and Orlando still understand the true spirit of collaboration better than almost any other act.