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Wicked Witch, "Chaos: 1976-86"
Put out by a small Japanese label that apparently gets no minor thrill off disseminating deliberately obscure reissues, this kooky collection of leftfield funk showcases an artist too unknown to have the honor of being forgotten, begging the obvious question of whether such a set even needs to exist.
One perfunctory glance at this compilation's comically menacing cover—portraying an artificially red-eyed Wicked Witch a.k.a. Richard Simms decked out in a shiny black jumpsuit adorned with Rob Halford's spikes—might negatively bias potential listeners from the start. Yet this low-rent netherworld Rick James identity, possibly swiped from the front cover of Street Songs, should hardly faze those familiar with the notoriously over-the-top imagery, grandiose concepts, and labyrinthine mythologies associated with some of funk music's best known acts. The Parliament-Funkadelic universe alone constructed such disorienting and convoluted storylines and ludicrous characters that no amount of recreational drug use could ultimately explain (But oh God, what incredible music!). Taken in the context of these forebears along with Washington D.C. in the late '70s and early '80s, Simms' get-up makes enough sense, and matches the decidedly dark nature of his bizarre if mostly unremarkable tunes.
Admittedly and predictably, much of the material here is heavily derivative of Simms' more talented and successful funk contemporaries, as seen through a D.I.Y. lens. On the vocal version of "Electric War," he blurts out an almost passable Rick James impression suitable for karaoke but not for much else. Still, the instrumental take reveals that, given the opportunity, Wicked Witch wouldn't have necessarily minded usurping the mantle of the then-reigning Super Freak. Originally credited to Paradiagm, an ensemble in which Simms featured on bass and vocals, "Vera's Back" is the centerpiece here, a 12 minute doozy undeniably indebted to the P-Funk catalog, replete with a keyboard solo that nods towards the great Bernie Worrell.
Simms comes closest to discovering a sound of his own on 1983's "Erratic Behaviour," a standout of haunted machine music throbbing with the tenebrous tones and atmospheres of the first Suicide album. While the least funky of the bunch, its unique groove oozes a creepiness that most self-described goth acts of the last two-and-a-half years couldn't muster in their gloomiest nightmares. The track's original B-side, "X-Rated," nudges Wicked Witch back into the more recognizable confines of funk, yet still shines with outsider appeal. Had Simms chosen to continue along this murky path, there might have been more music worth mining for this set.
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