1st Look: Roky Erickson & Okkervil LP

First new material from the 2-headed dog in two decades teams him with Austin heroes Okkervil River. Guess what? It's even better than anyone might've hoped for. In stores next week via the Anti- label.

By Jud Cost

After 45 years, the third shoe has finally dropped. Roky Erickson's first new album since Bill Clinton moved into the White House, puts an exclamation point to a tale of personal redemption for the Austin, Texas, native, a saga that has seen enough twists and turns to serve as the backbone of a major motion picture. Whether the film ever happens (at one point, Jack Black was said to be interested in a Roky biopic) remains to be seen, but the long-rumored, new recording from Roky Erickson, now backed by Austin-based indie-rock hotshots Okkervil River, has finally seen the light of day.

Whatever longtime devotees may have been expecting to come next when Erickson, backed by longtime pals the Explosives, played a short set at Threadgill's Ice Cream Social in Austin in 2005, this probably isn't it. Nevertheless, True Love Cast Out All Evil (Anti-) is a total mindblower.

The first brogan hit the deck for Erickson when the banshee howl and electric jug-fueled psychedelic madness of his 13th Floor Elevators scaled the national charts in 1966 with "You're Gonna Miss Me." After a series of devastating albums that included The Psychedelic Sounds of the 13th Floor Elevators and Easter Everywhere, Erickson found himself committed to Rusk State Hospital for the Criminally Insane in 1969 to avoid a long prison sentence for possession of a small amount of marijuana. Two years later, Erickson left Rusk as a diagnosed schizophrenic, a shock-treatment victim with a major drug problem.

By the late '70s, the second boot fell to earth when Erickson hooked up with the Aliens to cut a Stu Cook-produced, horror movie-influenced set of Roky originals that included "I Walked With A Zombie," "Bloody Hammer," "Creature With The Atom Brain," and "Don't Shake Me Lucifer." With a sprinkling of classics from the Elevators ("Fire Engine," "Tried To Hide," "Roller Coaster," "Reverberation"), Erickson's live set remained static for the next 10 years. By the mid-'90s, Erickson - unhappy, unhealthy and uncommunicative - had all but given up music. In his darkest hour, Roky was taken in hand by his younger brother, Sumner, who cleaned him up, fixed various health problems and, over the course of a year, got him back on his feet.

The Erickson brothers have since parted ways, but Roky's career seems to have taken a definite upturn with the new album. For the man who once wrote a song called "Two-Headed Dog" and whose album artwork has depicted Erickson with a third eyeball in his forehead, dropping the third shoe was mere child's play.

You enter the rabbit hole to the new world of Roky Erickson through "Devotional Number One," a song so lo-fi it sounds like it was recorded by a rusty nail gouging a spiral furrow in a round slab of wood. Apparently, some of this material was tracked by Roky's mother, Evelyn, on a portable tape deck at Rusk 40 years ago. Like the horror B-movies that once ran nonstop in Erickson's Austin apartment, the unavoidable, burning-rodent-squeal of electric guitar feedback in the background of "Goodbye Sweet Dreams" eventually shakes the song like a rabid dog. The lyrics to "John Lawman," a dark number that would have fit well with Erickson's creepy mother lode of material from 30 years ago, are just these: "I kill people all day long/I sing my song/Because I'm John Lawman." On the other hand, "Birds'd Crash," with Roky at his most stream-of-consciousness endearing, floats on rain-seeded clouds of electric guitar and quivering organ. "Bring Back The Past" has that shimmering Buddy Holly/Sir Douglas vibe that once made Roky's "Starry Eyes" such a lump in the throat experience.

If they ever get around to doing a Texas Mount Rushmore, the chiseled visages of Buddy, Doug and Roky would be a damn fine place to start.