Ever mixed a record? Probably not but there are those who do who swear by the tried and tested technique of doing a mix then listening to it from an adjacent room. Apparently, if it works when you hear it off the sonic axis, as it were, then that is the mix you use. "Sons of Stone" by The People's Temple sounded like it had been mixed in a different room. And a different time, for that matter.
The vocals seem lost and sort of distorted throughout with everything else falling into place according to the laws of random chance. So technically, there are no prizes to be won but that isn't really the point. As the vinyl – gold vinyl at that – spun round at its legislated 33rpm, it began to exercise a mystical power as if some hypnotic suggestion were contained within those displaced words. "Led As One" stumbles around like a post Doors covers band on the smack and, even if "Mephodrone" seems a touch dull, there is a lot more retro anger to come. Hell, it might even have been the plan to make these songs sound like they were recently found acetates by some long lost band.
Nonetheless, it's good to hear a band devoid of angst and The People's Temple certainly don't do such a thing. Instead, they head, with car crash enthusiasm, towards a chicken in the basket slaughterhouse with a bit of the Stones getting bitchslapped in "Where You Gonna Go?" just to keep you amused and in focus as their record collection gets thoroughly trawled.
Yet more influences surface on the other side as the band find themselves on a stronger footing. "Axeman" is untidy and aggressive enough to bear comparison with the Stooges, for example, with more to follow in the psyched out "Keeper (Of Souls)" before the madness really kicks in on "Pretender" as Spencer Young's distorted vocals stir up a storm of discontent. The words don't matter – and you will have trouble making them out anyway – but the effect is not muted by such minor details. Likewise, the mumbled ramblings of "Never Really" fit right into that lost in time vibe that permeates this album.
"Sons of Stone" takes me back to the days when all self respecting bands sounded like they needed a visit to a rehabilitation clinic. Rough, dirty and at right angles to the polished perfection that has killed the music business, The People's Temple seem right at home on vinyl and , being mercenary, with a bit of luck the band will implode and "Sons of Stone" will quickly become a collector's item. That's why God invented EBay, after all.
Judging from the runout groove, the vinyl was cut at Lucky Mastering and the pressing quality was excellent (and on gold vinyl if you get an early pressing so go get one now!). As you might expect, this album is best played loud. Really loud.