Masters of Reality - Pine/Cross Dover

I’ve been a Masters of Reality fan since I was 15, right after I got their “warhorse” Domino (from the first, self-titled album) on one of my many cassette tape compilations; that was late 1988 and I used to record random rock songs from any Italian radio station. Back then, with no internet, there was no way of knowing who these mysterious Americans were. All I knew about them I learnt from short columns on rock magazines and that was it. By the time I managed to buy their debut masterpiece a few months later the original line up had split! I was hooked on 70’s rock at the time and to hear that one of the few “new” bands I liked was already gone was a huge disappointment to me. Of course their name comes from the title of Black Sabbath’s third album, which I loved (and still love). I could hear the influence of Toni Iommi’s band on MOR but there was much more, the ghosts of Led Zeppelin and Cream, some early stoner, psychedelia, The Beatles’ White album weirdness, the epic of Blue Garden and the grandiose finale of Kill the King… There was no other band like them around that time. Then I kind of lost their tracks. In the meantime they became Chris Goss’s project, his vehicle for music more than a actual band; with a revolving door policy, they released a bunch of good albums, especially the follow up “Sunrise on the sufferbus” which saw Ginger Baker join them although temporarily. They’ve always managed to sound noir even on apparently easy pieces. Chris Goss’ voice can be intense and measured at the same time: his good pal Josh Homme must have learnt a thing or two from their friendship. Cross/Pine Dover is the latest chapter in this saga. The starting riff of King Richard TLH sounds like it was culled directly from The Undertones’ Teenage Kicks just to become another one of their epic tracks sustained by a motorik rhythm. Closing Alfalfa is a trippy instrumental with a West-coast feel, a Can-meet-Quicksilver Messenger Service style experiment in a way. In-between is Chris Goss spectrum of moods, from the other instrumental, Johnny’s dream, which he admits being a nod to John McLaughlin (but to me it sounds like early King Crimson’s experimental side), the creepy Absinthe Jim And Me, the dark and hypnotic Worm in the silk with its excerpt from Glenn Miller’s Moonlight Serenade, the catchy Dreamtime Stomp. But taken as a whole this is an excellent record from an often undervalued cult band. Yes, there are references to other bands like I said but oftentimes you need genius to put it all together and achieve an optimal result like this.