Friar Tuck

Unbothered by label or industry concerns, Julian Cope has thrived in the 21st century, using his Head Heritage imprint to issue a deluge of outsider records that touch on all points of his psychedelic compass. If there is a primary canon to be counted, Friar Tuck is his fourth studio LP of the 2020s and serves as a companion of sorts to 2023s Robin Hood. In the brief but prolific period between these two releases, he also eulogized the Queen of England (The Corpse of Queen Elizabeth) and pulled from the vaults a 70-minute Mellotron piece (Avila in Albicella) hed previously recorded as a sleep aid for his daughters. After those instrumental albums, Friar Tuck feels more like a classic Cope smorgasbord, recalling some of the conviction of 90s highlights like Jehovahkill and Autogeddon, but frayed and fried in the manner of his 2020s output. There are droning Krautrock bops ("Four Jehovahs in a Volvo Estate"), mystic folk balladry ("1066 & All That"), sprawling psychedelia (the eight-minute "Me and the Jews"), and even a warped singalong ("Done Myself a Mischief"). With his signature mix of esoteric rants, droll humor, and historical knowledge, Cope sounds like no one else and his sonic palette of wah-wah guitars, Mellotron 400, Farfisa organ, and fuzz bass are similarly distinctive. While he can coast as the self-made maverick of ArchDrude fame, he is also still a great songwriter. Tucked into these strange, loose songs are bits of enduring architecture, interesting philosophies, and the transcendent melodies that have been his bailiwick since the 80s. Of Copes latter-day records, Friar Tuck is a triumph. ~ Timothy Monger