GOLDEN EARRINGS Miracle Mirror '69 KILLER PSYCH LP HEAR

$

38

WHAT WE HAVE HERE IS…

THE GOLDEN EARRINGS "Miracle Mirror"

Original 1969 LP on the CAPITOL label, STEREO ST 164

Cover:  VG++, light ringwear front, 1" spine split, sm discoloration on back

Vinyl:  Visual marks, nothing deep, plays VG+ with occasional pops

Anybody who bought a K-Tel compilation in the 70’s knows the stomping stoner guitar riff behind “Radar Love”, a 1973 smash for the Netherlands’ Golden Earring, a song that must’ve blared out of a billion Trans Am 8-track tape players back in the mid 70’s.  But far fewer people know that the same band, just four years earlier, released what may be one of the finest albums in Dutch psychedelic rock history – a semi-concept album that may be Holland’s answer to “S.F. Sorrow” – 1969’s “Miracle Mirror.”  Like the Pretty Things’ masterpiece, “Miracle Mirror” plays with many different trippy styles – mindblowing acid psych, floaty harmony pop, chunky freakbeat – with as many studio production effects and trickery as you can stuff into the grooves.  It’s a true psychedelic classic, one of the three best acid pop long-players to come out of Holland, along with the Outsiders’ “CQ” and the Sandy Coast’s “From the Stereo Workshop.”  Opener “The Truth About Arthur” is a crazed, manic mind-melter of the highest order, riding a buzzing fuzz riff and an ascending moog line that sounds like an exploding vacuum cleaner.  Any doubters about just how f*&^ed up this little tune is should promptly check out the sound byte, remembering that these are the very FIRST lines on the album:

“He’s looking at me with his eyes closed and his lips moving fast.

Little drops are dripping now from his chin upon his chest.

And every time I try to escape, the little dwarf appears and fades.”

Now it takes either an insane appreciation of David Lynch or a bargeload of good weed to start off your album with a drooling man and a disappearing dwarf, and since this is 1969 we’re talking about here, I think we can rule out David Lynch’s involvement.   But the Golden Earrings pull it off, thanks to a melody that’s both insidiously creepy and simultaneously quite catchy.  This, boys and girls, is Goth before there ever WAS a Dave Vanian, or Peter Murphy, or even a Hot Topic for that matter.  Even the pop smarts of the chorus include lines like “Walking through the ballroom of the dead.”  And the deep voices and shrieking falsettos that rise up through the fog like Tor Johnson and Vampira in an Ed Wood cemetery sound like they’ve single handedly inspired songs like “Shadow of Love” and “Plan 9 Channel 7” in the Damned discography.  This is twisted stuff.  And what’s even MORE twisted is that same band can, just a few songs later, give you an absolutely STUNNING slice of epic baroque pop that beats the Brothers Gibb at their own game.  Seriously, the ethereal “I’ve Just Lost Somebody” sounds like a lost outtake from one of the Bee Gees “Odessa” album, a breathy, heavenly slice of moody manna that lifts you skyward in its epic fit of dramatic depression.  And once that angelic choir kic ks in during the chorus, you may actually get a glimpse of those pearly gates.  Pure pop heaven decked out in a wall of sound.  Phil Spector in white wings.  Which is more than you can say for the inexplicably schizophrenic “Mr. Fortune’s Wife”, a song that shifts gears more often than a Japanese motorist during rush hour traffic.  The opening “sha la la la” vocals make it seem like you’re in for a catchy slice of ’65 Beatles beat pop at first, that is, until the backwards guitar kicks in and plunges you headfirst into a vat of steaming evil psych.  “All I need is a flexible whip” they sing, and if this weren’t 1969, you’d swear that Mr. Fortune was really former Illinois Republican Jack Ryan.   But don’t get comfortable, kids, because this one’s just starting, and before it’s 3 and a quarter minutes are over, we’re going to head off into bouncy Beach Boys pop, mad Russian Cossack dancing and a coda which features a slide whistle and the repeated line “She’s got to have it!”  What is this, the theme song to Spike Lee’s lost dominatrix film?  It’s all so strange, so seriously demented – Let’s recap:  disappearing dwarves, dripping saliva, dominatrixes with whips, and a little trip to heaven on the backs of angels.  “Miracle Mirror” sounds like David Lynch’s rewrite of the Kinks “Arthur” album.  You won’t find this stuff on any K-Tel album.  

 hear it!

The less exciting stuff

Media mail shipping with delivery confirmation starts at $4.00 in the US, with each additional record only $1 additional shipping.  ALL DOMESTIC ORDERS REQUIRE DELIVERY CONFIRMATION, WHICH IS AN EXTRA 75 CENTS.  Air mail shipping to Canada starts at $10 US, each additional record $2 shipping.  Air mail shipping everywhere else in the world starts at $16 US, with each additional record only $3 shipping.  ALL FOREIGN ORDERS REQUIRE CERTIFICATE OF SHIPMENT, WHICH IS AN EXTRA $1.10.  I accept payments through Paypal. 

I try to grade as best as I can, and I list as many blemishes/imperfections I can find (writing, ringwear, scuff marks, etc.) – Also, please note that I DO listen to these albums – I may not listen to every track, but my grades are based on LISTENING, not just looking at it, since chances are you’ll be listening to the record you buy, not just looking at it.  Most of the albums I sell are the ones I’ve enjoyed for years – and I treat my records with kid gloves.  But sounds speak louder than words, so check out the sound clips below – they’re from the actual record you’re bidding on. 

SHIPPING AND PACKAGING

Listen, I buy a bunch of records too (when I’m not getting outbid at the last second, which is more often than not) – and I know what it’s like to get a rare, one-of-a-kind album packaged dangerously in a flimsy bubblewrap package.  I hate that too.  So rest assured, I ALWAYS package albums with stiff cardboard reinforcements, same for 45s.  And yes, the records are removed from the sleeves (for albums).  I ship out once a week, every Friday, because I have a regular day job.  But I’d be willing to give that up if you’d all be so kind as to bid my items up to stupidly high amounts. 

And finally, I include delivery confirmation on all shipments inside the US.  This is my proof of shipment, and also helps us to track your package if it doesn’t arrive when it should.  I will email you within 2 days of shipment and give you the confirmation number at that time.  Insurance is always optional, but for larger orders, it’s highly recommended.   I DO NOW REQUIRE THAT ALL FOREIGN BUYERS PAY AN ADDITIONAL $1.10 FOR PROOF OF SHIPMENT.  IT'S A NOMINAL FEE AND THE CHEAPEST WAY FOR ME TO PROVE THAT I ACTUALLY SHIPPED YOUR PACKAGE AND DIDN'T JUST POCKET YOUR MONEY AND SKIP TOWN.  For more security and international tracking, you may request GLOBAL PRIORITY MAIL - but bear in mind the cost of this service is upwards of $30.  For expensive items, however, it may be well worth it.  Unfortunately, there isn’t a cost-effective way of tracking parcels to foreign countries yet, and shipping times vary depending on your country’s postal system.   Italy in particular seems to be really bad at delivering packages quickly, or delivering packages at all, now that you mention it.  I will always email you when your package ships, but once it’s on its way, please don’t ask me when it will arrive because I don’t know.  If the world’s postal systems can ever agree on a universal tracking system that’s affordable, I’ll be the first to use it.

NOW IT’S YOUR TURN…

I will always leave positive feedback for successful transactions, and would appreciate the same in return.  All I ask of you is the following – please pay for your items within 14 days of the close of auction.  Compared to other sellers, that’s a generous amount of time, so if you don’t pay within 2 weeks, then I have to assume something’s wrong.  You’ll get an Ebay payment reminder at that point, and possibly a decapitated horse head in your bed.  If, after 30 days, you still haven’t forked up the cash, I’ll relist the item and yell at you if I ever see you in town.