Ray Manzarek - The Whole Thing Started With Rock & Roll Now It's Out of Control

Mercury Records

Bar tune, raggy, jangly piano and hard guitar is what opens on the title track of "The Whole Thing Started with Rock & Roll Now It's Out of Control". The groove of the song is fantastic and very danceable, with some horns here and there as a nice treat (as horns always are). You'd never expect a voice so low to come out of a jazz-orientated man who spent most of his music career in California--he'd be a little better suited to the blues, but that isn't to say he can't sing. If the song had been released as a single, it should've been a hit as opposed to things like "Life is a Rock (But The Radio Rolled Me)" by Reunion, a novelty song essentially about the same thing. I'd take the roaring twenties feeling of Ray Manzarek over that garble anyway.

Slower, dissonant keys combined with funk flavours and a feverish bass line come together to create a dark and foggy, almost Halloweeny atmosphere on "The Gambler". As expected, the lyrics are full of references to various card games and gambling yourself to death, though they tend to get a tad uninteresting save for Manzarek's delivery of the lines. Apart from a strong solo between the first chorus and the second verse, the instrumentation remains consistent throughout, with spooky key trills and the guitar taking a backseat. 

"Whirling Dervish" opens with almost harpsichord sounding keys, bongos(?) and very jazzy saxophone that sounds straight out of a Blodwyn Pig song. Hypnotic bass and aggressive keys help to keep the energy of the song up, but at some point the saxophone becomes too much,  like a bad trip, and the toy piano banging of the celesta is hard to take seriously. I'd call this "art rock" in more then on sense of the term. Part way through the song completely turns around, slowing down to more New York bluesy-jazz with regimental drumming, less saxophone and more keys and guitar. Even later into this five minute sojourn comes an attempt at Eastern music before it just dissolves into sounding like something ripped from a low budget foreign film. Far out. 

Coming in with far too many weird science-fiction sound effects is "Begin the World Again", which is probably supposed to be some distressing existential piece about the future of the environment. The bass takes a lead and works well in conjunction with the clack-clack-clackings of the clavinet, but unfortunately no bass player was credited on the liner notes of the album so either I'm mistaken and there is no bass or something else is going on. Either way, they won't be getting their due credit. The female vocals are a little off-putting; they contrast too much with Manzarek's vocals and are honestly not too good, but the build up to the well made chaos of the end of the song is so good that I guess it can be overlooked. 

"I Wake Up Screaming" is practically an LSD nightmare, cutting in with evil laughter and aggressive wind sound effects. The addition of a grooving clavinet builds on the Emerson, Lake & Palmer-esque energy of the song--perfect for any local Halloween party. Manzarek's vocals are raspy and dramatic--he might be having too much fun--but the addition of Patti Smith's reading of Jim Morrison's "Ensenada" is rather unnecessary and droll. Screeching-cat-drill sound effects are also a bit grating and unpleasant, but those are quickly taken over by tangent line guitar playing and crashing cymbals. The song is fun if a little unsettling, and the rain/thunder/piano outro is clever and atmospheric. 

Probably the least interesting song on this album, "Art Deco Fandango" comes off very much like a throwback to the 1940s, with a simple combination of jazzy drum, bass and piano and Louisiana horns. The chanting talk-singing line delivery isn't that great, not too keen on that. 

"Bicentennial Blues (Love it or Leave it)" is up next, a seven-minute song opening with fuzzed out, feedbacky keys and light, easy drum work. Dreamy backing vocals are provided by Flo & Eddie of The Turtles fame, and they contrast well with the worn, drawn out tone of Ray's voice. Protest is a good look for him. A bass solo compliments percussion, giving it a psychedelic feel off the best Santana record you never heard, though it does begin to get repetitive after a while. In the middle of a trance-like, hypnotic key section is a throwback to Doors' hit "Light My Fire", but despite this it's great to see Ray thrive with all the creative control a solo record gives him. 

A spacey, mystical, fairytale-like intro that I really dig opens the final song, "Perfumed Garden", already invoking some 'Garden of Eden' imagery but without the overbearing Christian aspects. After a moment of that you get thrown head first into the main body of the song, which has an especially happy-go-lucky feel to it. So good so far. The problem with the song comes in the lyrics: At first, you'd think it's just a love song with a few awkward lines here and there--maybe you even misheard some of them.

Unfortunately, what you thought you heard was right, as this has got to be the most vulgar, explicit, salacious, not-even-disguised sex song I've ever heard in my life. In fact, the lyrics are so descriptive and terrible and outrageous you'd think it was parody. The song even comes complete with sound effects (who do you think you are, John Cale?) and I couldn't even sit through the whole song--not even for critical reasons--because it actually made me feel ill, something that only the songs of Jonathan Richman and The Modern Lovers have accomplished before. The line of decency wasn't so much crossed as bounded over. Forget what I said earlier about creative control. A little shame could go a long way. 

Apart from the horrid adventure that was "Perfumed Garden", "The Whole Thing Started With Rock & Roll" is a very solid album, and even if almost every song is a little out there compared to the more standard music of the day, there is certainly something to be admired in the artistry of it it all. 

Rating: 5/5