Inbreeding isn't all bad. For one thing, it suffers from horrendous misconceptions. The fact is, inbreeding between first cousins risks only a 4-5% chance of birth defects, slightly less than double that of an ordinary child. Moreover, it preserves pedigree. Take canines, for example-- mate two purebreds from the same lineage and you're far more likely to win Best in Show. Humans preserve pedigree, too, as has occurred with royals for generations (including the current Royal House of Windsor) and, of course, my own parents.

Orange Can are big on pedigree. Think of them as the Westminster-favorite Standard Poodle. The Standard Poodle wears its influences on the outside-- in fact, it's precisely because of the traits of its ancestors that the breeder ever chose to bring it into existence. The breeder hopes that the best traits from the dog's ancestors will commingle, binding the perfect genes in poodles for generations to come. The pitfall, however, is as patent as my six-fingered brother's cleft lip; if the two dogs both have the same genetic flaw (i.e. "mutant allele") the mix could result in a freaky genetic disorder, sometimes as innocuous as especially bad doggie-halitosis, and others as severe as premature death.

So it is with London, England's Orange Can. They make psychedelic jam rock that draws almost exclusively-- and sometimes indistinguishably-- from their English ancestors. These ancestors include the following: Pink Floyd, the Beta Band, and the Stone Roses, among others. They also include American quasi-expatriates (half-breeds, mutts) like Jimi Hendrix.

First off, the positive traits. Orange Can is clearly from the same litter as its Regal UK labelmates, the Beta Band. They've inherited a very similar approach to song structure, featuring mellow, bass-heavy, psychedelic jams. "Shoot the Morning Sun" bears that out with sparse, organic percussion (shakers, hand-claps, bass drum), a wandering pentatonic bassline, and singer Jason Aslett's lax vocal delivery. "Mornin' Sun," easily the most enjoyable track on Home Burns, employs similar orchestration, but builds energy into a foot-stomping, full-band R&B; chorus reminiscent of Spiritualized. Similar kudos go to musicality and production. Guitarist James Aslett borrows heavily from the Hendrix-inflected tones of the Stone Roses, in addition to the Voodoo Child himself. Bassist Lee Caitlin proves from the opening boogie of "In Your Shoes" that he has the chops and versatility to give both the blues and prog-rock numbers convincing authenticity. On the production end, Home Burns almost sounds like a period piece; from the eight-track dirtiness and reverbed harmonica of "Crybaby," to the myriad vintage guitar effects, the songs flow together with consistency, in spite of their diverse influences.

On the other side of Orange Can's musical consanguinity lies its detrimental mutant alleles. An influence apparent on many tracks is Pink Floyd. "Down Where She Lays" opens with a taste of frenetic 70s prog-rock riffing (bass-driven, 5/4 time), then relaxes into a morose jam highlighted by trippy guitar embellishments. "Ransom" is another Pink Floyd tribute. Singer Jason Aslett adds lethargic vocals over a languid arrangement consisting of simple drums and bass which are eventually joined by a soul-free horn arrangement. I never really enjoyed Pink Floyd, and Orange Can has successfully reminded me why: the dull, stagnant jams sound indifferent and unambitious. And what's worse, unlike Pink Floyd, Orange Can can't even claim groundbreaker status. When they suck, it's all derivative-- almost like they chose to suck on purpose.

That said, however, if you're into trippy, nebulous jamming a la Roger Waters and friends, you may really enjoy even the weaker tunes on Home Burns. Also, the prog-rocking can occasionally be quite engaging, as on the shifty, soulful "Only 15," which recalls both King Crimson and the Stone Roses... and Pink Floyd.

All in all, Orange Can is an imperfect poodle. The breeders might want to try a new mix next time; grab a horny German Shepherd, or a nice looking Chihuahua. Something fresh might help Orange Can retain their strengths as musicians, while developing their own voice and avoiding blandness.

-Brad Haywood, November 1st, 2001