| Vultura Freeway review |
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Discorder magazine by Spike. (Nov. 2000) Art Bergmann Vultura Freeway (AudioMonster.com) It seems more than just a little strange to be reviewing an album which is over 16 years old. But when it comes to unsung singer/songwriter and Vancouver ex–pat Art Bergmann, even the strangest and most bewildering situations seem normal. Bergmann is the man who managed to blow recording deals with such major labels as Polygram and Sony by simply being himself and pulling no punches, both on his recordings and with the media. This mixture of creative genius and dark, troubled soul has never been better displayed than on this, his solo debut. This album was cut in February to May of 1984, shortly after the disbanding of Los Popularos, and two years before the launching of his Poisoned side project. This period of Bergmann’s solo career—which still stubbornly lumbers on in Toronto to this day—was quite possibly the most musically creative time span he would see, either solo or with a group. I originally got Vultura Freeway in 1985, shortly after its release, and it was one of my favourite releases of that year. I was heartbroken when it was broken in a move a couple of years back, as it is a difficult album to find on vinyl. What exactly possessed AudioMonster.com, of all music "distribution" companies in Canada, to remaster and re–release this gem of a disc is beyond me. But I believe it is an unbelievably generous gift to Bergmann fans and ’80s indie music fans alike. Sure, much of the music on this album is quite dated and even periodically overwrought with ’80s cheese, but that is a great deal of its present charm. If one overlooks these nit–picky aspects, what one who is unfamiliar with Bergmann’s early solo material will discover is that the ten songs contained on this album is Bergmann unflinchingly baring his soul—warts, warps, weaknesses and all—through his lyrics and sometimes dark and disturbing music. Musical backup is courtesy former members of such legendary local punk bands as Pointed Sticks, AKA, and of course, Bergmann’s first band, the Young Canadians. The fact that all these people donated their time to play showed the true spirit of the Vancouver indie scene of the ’80s. Much of this material either first saw light with Los Popularos, were Young Canadians cast–offs or saw new life with Poisoned or during Bergmann’s later major–label solo career. Either way, listening to these songs makes me think, "Was it any wonder no mainstream label knew how to market Bergmann’s music?" He revealed a dark underbelly of everyday life that most people at the time wanted no knowledge of. Now, that sort of angsty and nihilistic lyrical and musical content is considered a hot commodity—the stuff of sure–fire mainstream radio hits. If only Art were 16 years younger today, he’d be a big fat fuckin’ rock star. Go figure. |
