The Fort Mudge Memorial Dump

It’s a record like this that makes me glad I’m alive. Oh, it’s hardly a great album—some might argue that it’s not even very good—but just the fact that I own a copy of something as obscure as The Fort Mudge Memorial Dump gives me goosebumps. The Dump (for brevity’s sake), a Walpole, Massachusetts-based quintet featuring the lead vocals of Caroline Stratton, released its one and only lp in 1969 for Mercury (the album has recently been reissued on cd by Italy’s Akarma Records, proof once again that the Europeans will release just about anything). Despite its east coast origins, the band is firmly rooted in San Francisco acid-soaked psychedelia. The revelation here is Stratton, whose powerhouse vocals are reminiscent of the Jefferson Airplane’s Grace Slick. The bad news? She appears on less than half the songs. The group’s other singer is, as described by the Acid Archives, “the world’s most pretentious and annoying male vocalist.” Ouch. It’s a good thing his name is missing from the credits. Like the singers, the music is hit or miss. “Mr. Man” and “Crystal Forms” showcase the band’s instrumental chops, both of which help offset songs like the lyrically challenged “Tomorrow” (I’m gonna pick a flower/Gonna use an hour/Gonna build a tower/And I’m never gonna cower”). If nothing else, The Fort Mudge Memorial Dump helped serve notice that the psychedelic rock movement of the late ‘60s was not limited to California. New Englanders, it seems, were also apt to wear flowers in their hair.

Notes: For those of you who just can’t get enough—and I know you’re out there—check out the Acid Archives at http://www.lysergia.com/AcidArchives/. It turns out I’m not the only one who owns every record you’d never buy.