The good, the bad, the ugly and the twee: psychedelic pop is back, and who could have foreseen it? Bands that might've been dabbling in electronics five years ago, or maybe taking a stab at incorporating a few choreographed dance moves into their act are now chucking their drum machines for four-track recorders and flange pedals. It's a movement, baby, and if you're hip enough, you can get in on the ground floor! And hey, truth be told, it's not like the stuff has a chance in hell of being popular, so you don't have to worry about someone stealing your scene, and... whoa, hold up. You mean this isn't the next big fad? That puts a damper on me.

You see, the thing about the original psych-pop was that it wasn't designed for the long haul. Kids would form a band in high school, play some Them covers, and be happy that the prom gig wasn't booked yet. Then, the bass player would fall into some acid, communicate the disease to his friends, and the next thing we knew, Jerry Garcia's considered one of the best guitarists of all time. Well, maybe it wasn't exactly like that, but after hearing enough Electric Prunes records, I'm wondering if the psychedelic era may have been hiccup in time rather than an actual musical movement.

Perhaps bands like Beachwood Sparks get around the rather stifling, sub-genre dead end by making sure their homages to old-schoolers like Gram Parsons and the Byrds are spot-on, and not devoid of actual songwriting. To be fair, the band isn't going straight for the paisley, instead opting for cosmically affected country-pop, deep down fairly straightforwardly. And to be even fairer, this is something they have in common with bands like the Byrds, so when in doubt, give them the benefit. Once We Were Trees is their second album. Let's listen in.

After a short instrumental prologue ("Germination"), things begin in earnest with "Confusion is Nothing New." Running down the checklist, I hear an echo-treated mix (maybe a result of the production work of partner-in-crime, J. Mascis), drawn-out, lazily enunciated phrasing, slide guitar beamed in from Saturn, drone matching twang jab for jab-- yeah, it sounds like hippie music. But it's got a good hook and nice vocal harmonies, and you could do a lot worse trying to drum up sunny music for the picnic. I can't understand anything they're saying, except for someone telling me not to "give in to the things that take away from you," so maybe I should add inspirational freewill philosophies to the agenda.

This leads to the down-home white funk of "Sun Surrounds Me," and more nasal soul than you could find on anyone to the right of John Sebastian. But again, it's got a hook that makes you shake things, and the harmonies are cool. In fact, the subtle details like the Hammond organ licks and unexpected freaky coda are so idiomatic I wonder if this stuff isn't more academic than innocuous. Bah, I won't bring up any critical bad vibes here.

Of course, there's a Sade cover ("By Your Side"), though I think Beachwood Sparks have a better handle on sly retro-hipness than she does, and therefore shouldn't need to perform ironic cover songs to be cool. It does sound nice (one of their better modes, as far as I can tell), in a "Whiter Shade of Pale" kind of way, and it's possible that the band simply liked the song, and wanted to play it just because. Rock critics don't handle sincerity very well, so I'll leave you with my suspicion that they were only trying to make waves on indie playlists with this, and by doing so could inadvertently cement their gimmick-band status. Bah, the bad vibes again!

Joking aside, I do think bands that know something about the history of their music are rare enough, and I admire Beachwood Sparks just on principal. Throughout the album, it's obvious just how many old records they must have listened to, and it does take a certain love of life to work this hard bringing those sounds into the 21st century. As the album ends, drenched in the fuzzback of fantastically hirsute trash-rock (featuring an even more fantastic noisy guitar solo), I can start to forgive the similarities the band has with its forefathers. When I take into account that 1) there are actual songs here, not just parodies, and 2) most of the tunes were fun to listen to, I remember that playing rock-- psychedelic, trashy or otherwise-- doesn't have to be an exercise in originality. Maybe, it just has to be a way to pass the time. Nothing more required on a good day for a light jam and a daydream.

-Dominique Leone, November 1st, 2001