When you think about Communist Hungary – assuming you think about it at all – the first thing to spring to mind probably isn’t Eastern-tinged soundscapes and mind-fuck guitar licks. It’s time to rethink why the West won the Cold War.Released in 1968, Omega’s Trombitás Frédi És A Rettenetes Emberek(loosely translated to Trumpeter Fred and the Terrible People) was Omega’s first offering in a career spanning more than 40 years. Though the band was always Omega, they were rechristened as Omega Redstar for their debut, though went by Omega on all future releases. Looking at the band’s record covers over the years is something of an abbreviated study in rock n’ roll album design and hairstyles over several decades, as they go from the Rubber Soul-esque 10,000 Lépés to 1975’s English-language The Hall of Floaters In The Sky, with its giant eagle clutching a sword; there’s the Bowie-fueled Omega X: Az Arc and 1978’s prog-inspired Skyrover, one of the many platters the Budapest-based quintet released in both English and Hungarian (a few English-only albums are also out there).
The band formed in 1962 but didn’t release its debut until six years later, and while six years isn’t all that long, it’s an eternity as far as the evolution of ‘60s rock. So, not surprisingly, Trombitás Frédi is a mish-mash of sounds from the era, though the Beatles seem to always be the chief musical reference point.
A track like “Vasárnap” could’ve been a {Revolver} cut solely on the strength of its McCartney-esque melody, which bears a striking resemblance to that record’s “For No One,” whereas “Rettenetes Emberek” feels like an early-‘60s dance hall track that transforms into a more psych-oriented mid-‘60s garage jam that wouldn’t have been out of place in a Nuggets collection. “Holnap” alternates between tiptoeing guitar and bass lines, offset by schizophrenic guitars and keyboards and “Ha Én Szél Lehetnék” is whistle-laden ditty that moves back and forth between a bouncy and childlike vibe before turning 90 degrees to add a Far East flavor, then turning back to the whimsical.
The brief instrumental “Kállai Kettős” opens with reverb guitars and a flute solo before the ominous bass and drums come in, building toward a guitar workout influenced by Hungarian folk melodies. (Psych revivalists, take note: when attempting to recreate this stuff, it’s best to include the bits that nobody likes, such as flute solos).
Sadly, Omega were left off of last year’s Psychedelic Super Piotr, a compilation of psych cuts from behind the Iron Curtain, including Illes, another Hungarian act, whose “Ne Gondold” comes across like The Beatles’ “Get Back” on steroids. Admittedly, there’s not a huge market for Eastern European psychedelia, but Omega at least deserved to be included in that sort of broad survey of the genre.
In an age when seemingly everything ever recorded is available with a mouse click or two, there’s a reason this sort of thing hasn’t been completely resurrected. For one thing, Hungarian psychedelic rock is an admittedly small niche market. Secondly, however, is availability: select bits of Omega’s catalog have been reissued via the Hungarian label Hungaraton, but even on the Web it’s not always the easiest thing to track down. (After a lot of searching I stumbled upon a copy at Philly’s AKA Records, home to one of the country’s the best selections of obscure foreign psych reissues).
Trombitás Frédi’s 2003 reissue contains seven bonus tracks – including the bluesy “Nem Szeretlek” and the Zombies-inspired “Rószafák” – and while the material doesn’t always gel together as a cohesive whole on account of coming from a number of different stylistic periods, it’s a fascinating time capsule from behind the Iron Curtain – and a peak into a regional genre that’s not often discussed.
(Originally posted 6/15/10 at SpectrumCulture.com)
