Given their status as a cult band, it seems more than permissible that Primal Scream publish an artifact like the one in question, also adorned by a beautiful cover that shows the photo of a very young Bobby Gillespie some time before he became that mythical frontman that we all know today. “Reverberations (Travelling In Time)” It offers precisely what its title indicates: a trip back in time to meet, in the mid-eighties, the then still incipient Scottish band.
The reference – which in physical format is announced in a limited edition – finds the bulk of its argument in three sessions recorded by the combo at the BBC (specifically for the Janice Long and John Peel programs), with a total of eleven pieces that show to a group in full construction and that, however, already gives off the spark of the chosen ones, combining potential and a special aura. A time in which the group’s textures point to a jangle-pop vein with a more basic profile, still alien to thug guitars indebted to Stooges, MC5 or The Black Crowes and, of course, without any trace of electronics. In return, Primal Scream They linked directly with contemporary and related (and equally necessary) British groups such as Felt, Josef K, Television Personalities or The Pastels.
A feedback also palpable in Gillespie’s own interpretation, certainly situated in similar coordinates to those of Lawrence Hayward or Paul Haig. Precisely, the product has the good taste of respecting the original sounds of the time to enhance the value of the document. A repertoire with a majority of mid-tempos as enjoyable as “Imperial”, “Bewitched And Bewildered”the respectful version of “Tomorrow Ends Today” de The Springfields, “Aftermath” o “Velocity Girl”. The album is completed with initial recordings that Primal Scream made for his label, Alan McGee’s no less legendary Creation Records, including early takes of “Crystal Crescent”the instrumental “Spirea X” or, again, the magnificent “Velocity Girl”.
“Reverberations (Travelling In Time)” Not only is it a juicy curiosity of unquestionable interest to any firm follower of Primal Screambut, and in a generic way, it is also a valuable piece of that British underground scene that caught on in the mid-eighties and that would then give (and open) the way to those successful nineties in which those from Glasgow would confirm their generation as advanced members, thanks to milestones such as “Screamadelica” (Creation, 91) o “Vanishing Point” (Creation, 97).