The Warlocks 'Surgery' album

The Warlocks story is already the stuff of legend; a swamp of drugs, record deals signed in blood and ever-changing personnel (the band has already had nineteen members), which, in any other circumstances, would ensure the music came in a poor second to the tale. But with The Warlocks the eerie beauty of their songs always wins out. This is a band unafraid to take itself to the outer limits of endurance to let loose what’s inside them, even if it almost kills them.

“At the end of 2003 The Warlocks had been touring for three years straight,” explains Bobby Hecksher, newly centered and speaking from his apartment in Echo Park, Los Angeles.

“We were in Spain and there were still two weeks to go of the tour and I was out of my mind sick, the worst I’ve ever been. I had an ear infection and the doctors told me if they’d seen me two days later I would have lost my hearing permanently. It was the lowest possible place I could have reached. I knew I had to take some time away and summon up the old energy again… ”

Rock genealogists can breathe easy: aside from the departure of token Brit drummer Danny Hole (replaced by the splendidly named Bob Mustachio) the band have only one other line up change since we last met: original bassist Jenny Fraser has returned to the fold in place of Bobby Martine. As before the rest of the group lines up as: JC Rees (guitar), Corey Lee Granit (guitar), Laura Grigsby (tambourine and organ), Jason Anchondo (drums), and, of course, Bobby Hecksher (guitar and lead vocals).

Those already tuned into this frequency will be aware of The Warlocks’ albums to date: debut record Rise & Fall (released in the US only on Bomp) and 2003’s acclaimed Phoenix. A fire-and-brimstone epic full of slow-burning jams and searing blasts of motor-neurone rock noise, at times it sounded like Steppenwolf and The Velvets gorging on the greatest tracks from the “Nuggets” comps. However, if the success of Phoenix brought the band to a much wider audience - not least the stunning use of “Hurricane Heart Attack” in Cedric Kahn’s acclaimed French flick Red Lights - then new album Surgery is a massive step further on: perhaps even their masterpiece.

“Personally speaking it hasn’t been a easy ride to get here,” explains Bobby.
“I often feel like I’m in some kind of fragmented dream-state. We’ve been through some fucked up shit to get here but that’s the way it’s always been. My life has been one big emotional rollercoaster…”

Bobby Hecksher grew up in the swamps of Tampa Bay, Florida. Raised on his grandfather’s radio station - a rock’n’roll outpost visited by everyone from Chuck Berry to Jerry Lee Lewis - he learned the basic tracts of rock music almost through osmosis. Having moved to Los Angeles at age sixteen, he took to staying out all night at the infamous Mad Hatters Club, jamming with fellow miscreant Beck (Bobby played bass on “Stereopathetic Soul Manure”), playing in the infamous Brian Jonestown Massacre, and, of all things, dropping acid with Timothy Leary.

Needless to say, all these experiences, as well as three chaotic years on the road have been channelled into Surgery.

Recorded in a series of LA Studios (Sunset Sound, Fantasy Island, Sound Factory) from January 2004 with legendary producer Tom Rothrock (Beck, Elliott Smith, Coldplay), Surgery is both more accessible and more vulnerable than Phoenix.

An otherworldly, subversive soul record to rank with Mercury Rev’s Deserter’s Songs or Spiritualized’s Ladies And Gentlemen, it has a ghostly grace which mixes soothing sci-fi lullabies (“Gypsy Nightmare;” the gorgeous “Angels”) with their trademark characteristic rohypnol rock-outs, not to mention a few black-humoured nods to the illness which almost derailed Bobby permanently (“Tangent’s” pointed: “I got so sick/the nurses they’ve all quit!”).

If the song “Surgery” itself is the sound of The Sex Pistols playing My Bloody Valentine with lacerating lyrics to match (“You operate/ Like no one else I know/ And your scalpel cuts/Deep clean through my heart and my mind!”), opener “Come Save Us” is a shiver-down-the-spine onslaught which, if it doesn’t get your nerve-ends twitching, probably means you’re dead already.

“I was listening to the Shangri-las, the Ronettes, the whole Phil Spector Wall Of Sound thing,” he enthuses.

“The aim was to create some new rock’n’roll hybrid: sonic space-age doo-wop! I wanted the album to sound bigger, fuller, sicker than before. At the same time I also wanted to reflect what I’ve always been into: Sonic Youth, Spacemen 3, Adam And The Ants. I’m so proud of this album. I feel like we’re a billion light years from all those other groups around at the moment…”

Indeed. Whilst most of the retro-centric bands who’ve burned so brightly over the last couple of years ago have either imploded or found themselves stuck on endless repeat, Surgery sees The Warlocks (buoyed by a worldwide deal with Mute) grown into a truly awe-inspiring rock group: the sort which changes lives and alters perceptions in the same manner as their idols did before them.

On a song like “Suicide Note” (sample lyric: “I was trying to tell you that/ I need you more than I can say”) they’re so far out, it even makes you worry about how long they can maintain such intensity.

“That song is me at the end: the farewell, the cliff top, walking the plank, the very last step on this earth,” says Bobby.

“I put everything I’ve got into it, and from that darkness comes positivity. With The Warlocks that’s the only way.”

A dazzling new album about nothing less than life and death then, from the strangest, most precious band on the planet. We sure have missed them.

Prepare for Surgery.

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The Warlocks - Surgery