Written by: Dave Cantrell

Sometimes you don’t even know where to start. One day an album arrives unexpectedly on your doorstep, sent by someone who’s become something of a dear friend over the years due to yours truly’s longstanding undying appreciation for the music they’ve been a part of creating since what feels like time immemorial (AKA the late ’70s) and the city from which it has mostly come from which is to say the Rock and Roll Capital of the World which is to say Cleveland, which is, well, close enough if indeed 38.7 miles is ‘close’ since what you really meant to say was Akron and if this whole intro strikes you as juuuust a wee bit convoluted, well, as the author I have the, um, authority to say “Of course it does just as it damn well should considering the artist and, crucially, the milieu from which he sprang.”

For those in the Akronian know the name Harvey Gold is (inevitably) golden, having been an original member – with Ralph Carney (RIP) and Chris Butler among others – of Tin Huey whose debut LP Contents Dislodged During Shipment arrived amidst the ridiculously fertile post-punk peak of 1979 with enough savvy and boisterous brio to, um, dislodge for a least a week or two all the other countless contenders for our attention which, as history will confirm, was a burgeoning tide the likes of which has as its only real rival  1966-1968. Add to that the guy’s multiple projects over the years including some production work and, no exaggeration, you have one of the unsung titans of the (inexplicably) under-the-radar music macrocosm, a status that, were there justice in said ever-exanding metaverse, would be upgraded to the renown deserved but that notwithstanding at least deserves the attention of our ever-astute readership. So, yeah, listen up.

To make clear from the jump, the material on Surf Masada, the recently-released debut from the newly-formed Golems of the Red Planet, not only makes the roots inherent in the main guy’s career unwaveringly clear, it embraces it down to its timeless core (for which, by the way, we have his three confreres here to thank – drummer/percussionist Bob Ethington, bassist Mark Allender and Matt Reese providing the secret ingredient cello). That said, and for the sake of providing the clearest insight into the source of this startlingly (if unsurprisingly) good album’s original material, we’re going to allow ourselves a straight-from-the-presser quote the last ten words of which we’re highlighting because how could we not: “All the tracks on the album source from composer John Zorn‘s monumental 613-piece Masada project – rooted in Ashkenazi folk modalities that, perhaps unexpectedly, share DNA with the tonal language of classic surf music.” Culture, it can be a funny-assed thing alright but, then again, that’s almost certainly what keeps us engaged nearly every damn day of our lives. So, okay, with the obvious thus stated, let’s dig in (oh, and please note we’ll be including translations of track titles under the belief that the deeper the context the better.)

With “Hadrial,” we begin in what, we swear, sounds – delightfully, mind – like the soundtrack to an ominous hot afternoon in Old Yuma wherein two speedsters are lined up to race down Main Street during which they happen to burst into flames which, given that that title derives – as best as your out-of-his-league correspondent can determine – from an angel the internet describes as “a massive gatekeeper of fire and lightning in the heavens,” well, Gold and his gathered accomplices spark a performance that is suitably cinematic enough to pull that allusion off with what is commonly called ‘aplomb.’ And the cool thing amidst all that heat? We’ve only just begun.

“Mehalalel,” following that opener, exhumes that aforementioned surf vibe and layers it with a deftly executed Middle Eastern feel, resulting in a track that evokes both groove and reflection that’s rather offhandedly buoyant with its sense of timelessness which, we reckon, is pretty damned appropriate given its Biblical namesake was the son of Kenan who, as it happened, was the great-great-great grandfather of Noah and lived to be a spry 895 years old which, I gotta say, gives this particular listener some sorely-needed solace seeing as he’s a mere 12.8% of his way there but I digress, which I reckon, given this album’s gently relentless push and pulse, is itself something of a sin, however understandable. Anyway, onward…

…to “Hutriel” that, via a thrumming persistence rooted in an interplay between Allender’s depth-plumbing bass that along with Ethington’s rather astonishing, relentlessly intuitive percussive furrow makes the track among the most essential here but of course, as implied, it faces an embarrassment-of-riches no matter where you roam on this alluring journey. Be it “Mo’ed (“appointed time” or “divinely set meeting”) that couldn’t better represent the second of those two interpretations, the ensemble assembling, layer after layer, a 4½ minute swirl through a realm that, by our lights, exemplifies what might be termed a ‘meditative state of relentlessness,’ which, you’re right, could well be frequently applied throughout; “Ziphim,” referencing the ancient Judean city of Ziph, carries with it an astute edginess, its contours marked by something of a cobraesque vibe that, via especially Gold’s deft guitar work, presents a mini-spree of Middle Eastern-based spy movie filigrees that are not only just a delight on their own but, seeing as said city is remembered for having betrayed David by revealing his hiding place not once but twice, could not be more contextually rich; the sultry, mesmerizing “Hazor,” as finely textured as its ancient namesake’s teeming central market had to have been through to “Belial,” a haunting, churningly active yet reflective coda that succeeds in its brief two minutes forty seconds what any last track worth its ancient salt accomplishes which is to leave the listener feeling something at least akin to, if not spot in the middle of, the phrase ‘mournfully giddy,’ where one is sorry on the one hand that the ride is over but ever grateful for the presence of the instant replay option being right at hand.

I could go on then on some more but the editing monitor parked inside my intuition says I’ve said enough and whereas I’ve come to deeply believe that dude’s voice over the many years, this time I ain’t so sure which only goes to show that, with some records, they’re so transfixing you don’t even know when to end.

[“Golems of the Red Planet” released June 12th on heyDAY Records is available in CD format here or digitally on Bandcamp here]