First Daze Here (The Vintage Collection)

Today I finally harpoon that elusive white whale I've been chasing since writing my first review back in 2015: Pentagram's First Daze Here (The Vintage Collection), which features the greatest material Bobby and his original boys wrote back in the early 1970s, predating even my parents' wedding vows who celebrated their fiftieth anniversary last year, with hopefully many more to come.

Although Relapse Records followed up in 2006 with extensive First Daze Here Too (released as an afterthought), this clean-as-a-whistle, non dirty dozen fully assuages melodic, pentatonic yearnings as much now as did decades ago, when I initially spied it in CD form at Montreal's HMV Superstore on Ste. Catherine Street. Suffice it to say, upon hearing now vaunted Virginians' American retort to British Black Sabbath's "Paranoid", the infinitely rocking "Forever My Queen", I freaked out in place at the listening station and bought a copy faster than you can yawp "Gibson SG".

Right away, I became enamoured with Pentagram, regardless of wry, apprehensive looks received upon declaring such newfound faith and devotion to what was then most criminally underrated band ever. Yet, with each forward sampling, targeted respondents committed themselves to the noble cause of promoting a relatively unknown heavy music deity worth global praise. (Here we are in 2023, as Pentagram morphs into a household name.)

Alongside front man Bobby Liebling's charismatic vocals and bassist-turned-guitar hero (yet sadly deceased) Vincent McAllister's tangibly fluent, impeccably timed leads, the rhythm section of bassist Greg Mayne (also recently passed, so RIP x 2) and drummer Geof O'Keefe leaves no stone unturned when it comes to supplying funky heft needed to propel such hyper-kinetic grooves, beginning with brief but explosive "Forever My Queen" before switching gears on "When The Screams Come" and "Walk In The Blue Light". (To a degree, the twelve songs parallel Zodiac signs, in the sense they possess their own unique character.) An immortal staple in its own right, often reprised during the group's rowdy, Victor Griffin axed 80s/90s incarnation, the former's wonky tone and slack riffage, beneath Bobby's high-strung gesticulations, are second to none. You've to love the killer line: "You've entered hell I guess and weren't so cool...Now Satan makes your rules!".

Comparatively, the jazzily subdued "Walk In The Blue Light", covered at last in 2011 on Last Rites, lulls us into a false sense of docile security, in time for dual feminine wile stomp fests "Starlady" (encored on 2004's rarefied Show 'Em How) and wildly bass driven "Lazy Lady", which has never been given a modern makeover, so out there is its bold, extravagant energy. "Starlady"'s scratchy main riff and snappy waltz see me tap dance in my boots whilst Vincent's sweetly sinuous solos evoke a musical "Dead Eye" (for fellow Red Dead-ites, yonder). Greg and Geoff then steal the show on "Lazy Lady", a ribald tale of Bobby's hellcat ex-girlfriend, who goes so far as to evict him once she buys "the whole block he's living on". Lyrically, it's pure platinum; for aspiring bassists, I can't think of a crazier lesson in slide mechanics!

However, if I were to pick a single, absolute gem, it'd have to be the well polished "Review Your Choices". As much as Joe Hasselvander's 1999 version fondly chafes my ears, the authentic recording is, simply put, too cool. During its opening verses, Bobby sounds like a harbinger of evil doom, a malefic prophet and purveyor of bad news. Vincent's sneaky intro solo and further slinky twiddling make this one a creeper. The carnivalesque "Hurricane" then boggles the mind with its rollicking stride and twangy licks, making the most of two minutes. (Another golden oldie which beckons a second coming around the mountain.)

Worth noting, part-time 'Gram'er Marty Iverson tossed his crumpled hat in the ring on "Starlady", while the late Randy Palmer also contributed token dabbling within aptly titled "Livin' In A Ram's Head" (released as a bucking single with "Lorsque Les Cris Viennent" in 1979, my "first year here") and eccentric parlay, "Earth Flight". The loopy bass line and bashing skins presage a 1960s Batman jingle, heralded by many ascending and descending twists and turns liable to "make you see red". Not only that, its circuitous loopy-ness exudes a janky, low fidelity connotation, making "Earth Flight" (on which we're all booked and flailing) a quintessential sleeper, given new life in 2015 on Bobby's firecracker of a comeback, Curious Volume.

Whereas Vic Griff's soloing power hour transpired in 1985 on "Dying World", as his fanatic guitar moves go on forever without relent or repent, Mister McAllister's six string apotheosis occurs on the no-treat trick "20 Buck Spin", a hokey carousel alerting of potential prostitute peril on which he fully lets loose, rivaling even Jimi in terms of far wrought, home style blues. The battery equally shines, going off in all directions like a pineapple grenade thrown through a barroom window as Bobby laments his forsaken Andrew Jackson (legal tender Seminole Native Americans still refuse to hold on their person, to this regrettably dystopic day). By the way, Pennsylvania's Pale Divine did it wicked justice in 2001.

Wrapping down this knuckle dust assemblage of Nixon era hymns are the balladic pair of elegant swansongs, "Be Forewarned" and "Last Daze Here". Appointing a soft edge to their bluesy effervescence, both prevail as emotional catalysts to otherwise high octane fulfillment, with "Be Forewarned" the more haunting or lugubrious of the two due to its gloomy, Medieval frostiness, as well as Bobby's narrated, post mayhem reflections. I'm especially keen on the lines "Some people think I'm an advocate of Lucifer/And some say I'm a child of god - yes, they do/Some people think I've got the nine lives of a cat/And others say I'm filthy as a dog, a wretched dog". ("Woof!" goes the World's oldest canine, also named Bobi.)

To put it mildly, I get chills spinning its ominous, vinyl bound tune. The longest track at six minutes, "Last Daze Here" embodies The Vintage Collection's bygone, classic spirit which many generations to come are to embrace for its timelessness. (Ha! The verse "Somebody hold me/I'm afraid/Buy me a ticket/For a place to be saved" fools me into discerning the word "chicken" instead of "ticket".) Bobby and friends, when you read this tribute, heed my deep bow.

"Lord, I've lived on the dark side of the moon
And I've been to the heart of the sun
I've gone to bed with many ladies
Killed many a man
Before my 16th year was done
So you be forewarned
I'm coming after you
I'll never let you go - no!"