That '70s Reality

The 1970s was an incredibly strange decade. I lived in it the entire way. Whole buncha stuff happened. Mainly starting off with that anything cool or underground about the previous decade was put through a centrifuge and rebranded as commonplace. The corpse of the '60s had rotted and been eaten and the remains were being propped up and sold at a hyper-consumable discount by anyone quick enough to grab hold of a chunk, and the "hedonism" of that time that was deeply frowned upon got a makeover as to be suddenly acceptable and usable for profit, ka-ching! Vans were a thing, and I mean the boxy vehicles, not the skater-shoes. There were trading cards about vans. I have some. I'll post one below. Big rig trucks and their CB radios were another thing, with several movies actually being made to celebrate the "trucker culture". Short, unisex perms were in abundance. Men were walking around in gym-shorts, and the lapels on blazers and button-ups were as wide as albatross wings and many times more elaborate in color than any parrot you've come across. Children were highly sexualized, and I mean on a Weimar Republic scale. 

Cocaine was nearly a household item. In fact, McDonalds ceased production of their plastic coffee-stirrers because everyone was using them as coke-spoons. Amphetamines and dildos were sold in ads in popular TV/movie magazines (eg. Photoplay, which had been around since the 1920's) that sat alongside People and the National Enquirer in the checkout line. "Groupies" were teenage-to-twenties girls-and-women who would follow touring music groups (HENCE the term) around in order to have, well, sexual relations with whoever. "Super-groupies" like Pamela Des Barres would pursue the bigger acts like Aerosmith, Zeppelin, The Who, Bowie, KISS etc. TV sitcoms were to become time-capsules of rigid normalcy wrapped in a drug-fueled fashion sense. The po-po became hip. Gumbyflappers went from hippie-DIY to mass production. Tight, itchy polyester shirts were nearly mandatory and as breathable in the summer as wearing a plastic bag. Aquamarine \ yellow \ ultra-frost newt-green eye-shadow combos came into everyday use. Art deco made a big comeback and was horribly abused. Avocado-colored toilets were surrounded by plush, deep-pile carpets in far too many people's bathrooms. ALL OF THIS WAS COMPLETELY NORMAL! Not saying ALL of it was bad, but it's what we quickly acclimated to.

(My cards are in storage, so this is off the web. I do have this, tho'. It's so pretty, and a safe bet there's a waterbed in the back. Oh yeah - waterbeds were huge in the '70s too.)

On top of this, both the New Hollywood and punk sprouted out of the few cracks in the linoleum, and the seeds of women's lib, queer-freedom and racial justice had cemented their roots and were growing!

So that's a synopsis. That didn't even mention plaid suits.

Something else that grew from the '70s was the ICBC - the Insurance Corporation of British Columbia, formed by the provincial government (the province being British Columbia) in 1973. You'd think, from their title, that they handled all forms of insurance available, but it was just for automobiles. Basically, if you're a British Columbian and have a car accident, you go through ICBC for the claims and such. SO, by example, if another driver is way over the speed limit driving in reverse in the wrong lane and plows into you, they review the case, and reward the person who crashed into you. That sounds like a joke, I know.

With more complaints than anyone can count from auto-owners over the years, the ICBC aroused the ire of drivers - whether involved in accidents or not - through their seeming willingness to give payout to the instigators of any vehicular misadventures and also by raising premiums at an apparently notorious rate.

Which brings about this month's artist/recording, B.C.-group Flasher with their double-sided disc of disdain, "Icky Bicky / Tricky Icky" (Icky-bicky is verbal shorthand, used mostly in disrespect) on Criminal Records, no date given, but doubtfully out after '85. 

This has been called proto-metal, heavy psych, and a couple other things (and has a spot on a compilation called "Brown Acid - The Fifth Trip"), but to me it's more biker-bar heavy rock with a hint of funk beat and a touch of soul (the female backing v's). But I'm stuffed with butter chicken and cheap beer right now, so my thought process is kinda sludgy and I could be thinking of like ABBA or something. The first cut has some choice derision barked out by someone you'd picture owning a home-customized Harley and a work-beaten Dodge pickup with post-diggers and shovels in the flatbed and an 8-year-old Mastiff named 'Poodle-Pounder' straining at a chain in the back yard. I like it! The flip is something unusual: it's the A-side track again, but played backwards. Layered over top of this is what's made to sound like an anti-ICBC rally, with participants jeering and mocking a corporate rep wielding a megaphone. It's what most likely awarded the single its heavy-psych label.

As for the band itself, I can't find anything online indicating release date, or any kind of reviews. I thought at least the Georgia Straight would've had something, but no luck. Anyways, take a listen, and maybe get some throwback-commiseration if you've had any grief with said corporation as of late.

And if you want your very own copy, I see a Discogs seller in England has one for a hefty $42 (Canadian).

Download:  

Icky Bicky

Tricky Icky

(And this may be the last post for a while, as I'm moving again and things are chaotic, to say the very least.)