Hot shit. This week marks a month of online Weekly Volcano album reviews. Well, it’s the fourth week anyway. Technically that’s only 28 days, but let’s not nitpick. Let’s just rejoice for a moment and move on.



Cool.



The crap pile of promotional CDs I receive here at the Weekly Volcano was pretty dry this week, believe it or not. The pickins were slim, and I was forced out on a limb I would usually avoid. I was pushed into San Kazakgascar, and I believe I’ve still got some of it on me.



San Kazakgascar, if you’ll allow you’re mind to bend for a moment, is a “hypothetical nation state riding a wave of newfound optimism following World War III.”  Can you dig it?



I had trouble.



In actuality, San Kazakgascar is a chanting, drum beating, snake charming, eastern flavored three piece based out of Sacramento. Their record, Greetings from Beautiful San Kazakgascar, is as much concept as it is music.  The definition of San Kazakgascar provided above is straight from the band’s incense smelling press bio. The band is obviously delusional, and they’ll play Le Voyeur in Olympia on Friday, July 18.



When the Beatles went and kicked it with Maharishi Mahesh Yogi, they opened the door for efforts like Greetings from Beautiful San Kazakgascar. Mired in topical mysticism and gimmick psychedelia, there are moments of this record that had me grooving in my office chair – but far more that made me want to grab to hookah and run. After a hopeful opening on the record’s first track, “Dallas via Damascus,” which features some clever guitar work and exceptional clarinet styling – not to mention the least monotonous lyrical content of the entire album (which is a bold statement considering the chorus of “Dallas via Damascus” is repeated at least a billion times) –this record went nowhere but down.



And down, down, down Greetings from San Kazakgascar went – despite the best efforts of the band. Musically speaking, there’s a lot to appreciate here. Guitarist Jed Brewer, drummer Paul Takushi, and especially should be clarinet superstar Mike Woo do their damndest to right this ship. At times it works, as evident during long instrumental jams like the ones featured on “Exhale Furnace” and “Mosquitoes and Gnats.” But far more often San Kazakgascar falls a gimmick too short and an idea too few. The lyrics of this record remind me of songs I make up to amuse our 13 month old daughter, and even she’s beginning to grow tired of stupidity repeated ad nauseam. It’s a lesson whoever’s manning the lyrical pen for San Kazakgascar should take to heart.



In all, Greetings from Beautiful San Kazakgascar is not the worst 46 minutes of music I’ve ever endured, but it certainly isn’t the best either. San Kazakgascar’s instrumentation shows endless promise, but the band’s lyrics piss in the curry.  What started with promise ended with pain and sonic irritation. Greetings from Beautiful San Kazakgascar made its way out of my crap pile for a moment, but it returned almost as quickly.



That, as John McCain might say, is straight talk.