by osmosis

As with its studio recordings, Live at the Creamery finds the Gris-Gris setting their music down in an economical manner. The venue, a labyrinthine warehouse in the ghettos of Oakland, didn’t exactly lend an atmosphere ripe for recording in high fidelity. Even with the sound quality being called into question, this last live appearance of the Gris-Gris really does represent a watershed moment for underground music in the States.

Beginning in Texas, Greg Ashley set out to create a body of work combining all that he held dear musically. From the folk and country of Hank Williams to the out psych-blues of the ‘60s along with the primitive stomp of the Velvets, Ashley has found a place for all of his musical inspirations amidst his recorded work.

The Self Titled Gris-Gris disc found itself on shelves in 2004 as the band took to the road in support of its debut. Along with playing in various DIY venues across the country, I managed to stumble upon a performance of theirs at Oberlin College as the Bay Area band shared a bill with the Slip. And while both of those bands left an indelible mark upon me, only the Gris-Gris remained at the forefront of my mind during the ensuing months before I was privy to encounter them again in a live setting.

Seeing the band live is as much of a visual experience as anything else.  Ashley seated behind a microphone, which by the looks of it, could be dated back to the ‘40s or so, doesn’t grab for the audience’s attention. It organically moves towards him even as Oscar Michel, who most frequently can be called the group’s bassist, finds the clarinet a valid outlet for the screeching astral noises that seek to escape us all.

Amidst the two shows that have been edited together to form Live at the Creamery, ample aural evidence is presented to make the Gris-Gris one of America’s most savage and unrepentant purveyors of psych, regardless of its hue. The track listing here works with the band’s two full lengths, pulling in “Down with Jesus” from For the Season alongside “Mary #38” from the band’s self titled work. With such a defined lyrical bent and sonic edge, the melding of the two releases is seamless. And even if this disc, with its DIY recording style intact, sounds enticing, imagine what you missed live.