Hearing Ultimate
Spinach today, it is definitely dated, but if you’re going to be dated to a
particular date, 1968 is pretty great date to be dated to. Much of Ultimate
Spinach is charming in the way that may provoke a kitschy chuckle but it is capable of sincerely earning a gasp or two as well. The druggy imagery and ham-fisted social
commentary is pretty hard to take seriously, but things like the chugging “Ego
Trip” and the bopping, harpsichord jangling “Plastic Raincoat/Hung Up Minds”
are still effectively evocative of a grand era.
Bruce-Douglas has major issues with his first album because
of its “mid-rangey, bubblegum” production, and he is not wrong that the Ultimate Spinach
lacks Popeye’s punch. However, it is the more bubblegum moments that hold up best. When the aim is progressiveness, things get tedious. The album’s most legendary
track, the eight-minute-plus “Ballad of the Hip Death Goddess”, is a
totally listless jam, though Barbara Jean Hudson’s vocals, which recall Dorothy
Moskowitz’s ultra-cool work with The United States of America, are preferable
to Bruce-Douglas’s less polished voice. His subpar pipes are specifically
responsible for torpedoing the otherwise intense “Your Head is Reeling”. Yet,
there are times when everything comes together beautifully, as they do on the
final track, and “Pamela” has the most exquisite keyboard breaks
this side of “She’s a Rainbow”.
Sundazed’s new vinyl edition of Ultimate Spinach doesn’t do much to add much-needed bottom to the
production, but it at least makes a serious effort with a mono presentation.
The leafy green marbled vinyl is a neat gimmick too.
