Flaming Dragons of Middle Earth
Somewhere between Lady Gaga and Ron Jeremy lies Danny Cruz. He can sing national anthems or heavy metal anthems. In a band tonight with Nick Williams and Loren Burke on guitars, Frank Hurricaine and Coco Schachtl on drums, and guest John on toy accordion, he rides above the sounds like a surfer in the waves, a vulnerable humor in his voice, spry sprightly look on his bespectacled eyes. He’s Ron Jeremy, just listen to the song.
The Flaming Dragons can favor theory over practice, and the liberal ethos of outsider music, but when they catch a groove, they’re as grand as The Grateful Dead.
Solo side project from LSDV, just sound, strips and electronic panels. The sound is spacey and hypnotic. Flashes and clouds, echo of cartoon lightning. This is the television set I entered at three, in 1967. This is music of lush, romantic forests. Leafy paths that lead to inner city streets where they play the heavy funk.
Lex creates fortress of sound. His atmosphere is serene, with a touch of the ominous. There is something monk-like about it, singing prayers in the abbey. Then the noise rings in, eerie. Cosmic ice floes. Prurient caress. As the shadows of the storm subside.