THE TENTACLES: The Tentacles

The Tentacles

The Tentacles

© 2005 The Tentacles (634479182167)

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Reclusive Giant Squids suface and offer world their debut album.

tracks

1 Doctor Goo
2 Head in the Sand
3 Ain't No Bird
4 Tabla Mama
5 Ganja Computer (Radio Edit)
6 Sacred Hall
7 Pollock Hall
8 County Fair
9 Flute Loops
10 Dark Matters
11 Smoovin
12 Mexicans
13 Ripe Tide
14 Salesman
15 Beirbos Theme
16 Transmission
17 125th Street
18 Black Bird
19 The Slythus

notes

The Tentacles
By Jim Wilson

NEW YORK CITY, Jan 3 - Good natured and jocular, this can't possibly be the right man!  He's six foot five and square jawed.  He looks more like a quarterback than a musician.  But, this is indeed the Sam Crees of The Tentacles, which I've heard so much about.  He leads me up three flights of stairs to a door adorned with several heavy locks and a sign that reads "Laboratory."
The room is full of exotic instruments and crystals. Strange half assembled analog keyboards, tubes and circuits strewn about.  I look around as he quietly sits in a throne like chair made entirely of antlers.  He begins to play a didgeridoo stopping now and then to explain the concept of circular breathing, or attempt some Tibetan throat-singing. He tells me about his childhood, chores on the farm, the rhythm inherent to menial labor, building a wash tub bass, his discovery of Zen, the rules of Greco Roman wrestling, the ephemeral beauty of wind though the trees, the Mayan Calendar, and his adventures at sea.  He has a lot to say.  I ask him about the influences, which abound in the music of The Tentacles, and he grows silent, inward. He leans back and pulls a pipe from his overalls, which he lights.  I press him again.  "Haven't I been telling you all along?"  His face then grows dark, almost wrathful.  Then he chuckles. "Let me make you a cup of Jasmine tea."
Mr. Teraberry is rather taciturn in appearance and demeanor.  He's about five foot two and his head is entirely bald and misshapen excepting three or four long greasy hairs that sprout from the top.  I visit him at his dank dark basement apartment.  Clutter everywhere.  Coffee cups overflow with cigarette butts.  He wears a dirty blue bathrobe. Aviator sunglasses obscure his rat-like eyes.
Like so many musicians Peter got his start singing with the church choir.  Later as a youth Minister he started picking a guitar to accompany his message.  "You know the music helped me break through to these kids."  But after a propane explosion killed the family dog he became disillusioned. "Jesus, he hung out with prostitutes, tax collectors, lepers, people like me. All those do gooders make me sick."  He never returned to the ministry. 

I mention to him that The Tentacles seem to lack any professionalism.  "You're sure as shit right!" shouts Peter.  "There is a rich musical heritage in America, and it wasn't made by any professional musicians.  This music sprung from the fraternal bond between men and women who gathered for no other reason except the joy of playing simple and pure music together.  This music was created on front porches, in plantation fields, at hoe-downs, around campfires, and now it is being created in a brownstone in Brooklyn, by two men who call themselves The Tentacles!"

reviews

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  • Funky and funny. Put this CD in and drive around! It was fun to listen to and r
    author: Jane

    I loved the music and the funny lyrics. The artists really had fun making this CD. Please buy it because it has so much to offer in the way of something beyond ordinary....

  • Finally some rare meat I can sink my teath into.
    author: Vern Burner

    Finally some rare meat I can sink my teath into.

  • Mind Blowing. Put the "freak" back into sixties freakout.
    author: Bert Remus

    The Tentacles have been a fixture on the New York Underground music scene for the past year. Their live shows have always been a mixture of madness and mayham. I wasn't sure how they could put that on an album. They didn't. To my surprise and awe they made a much more traditional album, concentrating on song craft over freakout. There's still plenty of weird, but the weird has choruses and verses. Copecetic.

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