Another Super Flea dig. For more on the enigma that was Super Flea’s record booth, read the review on Les DeMerle’s Spectrum. I’ll be referencing the place a lot, so get familiar.
Onto the record. I pulled Life on Mars out of a dollar bin and stared at it knowing that whatever was cut into this vinyl had to be deep and cosmic. I wasn’t wrong in the least.
When I put the record on the first sound to fill the room was a deep, growling synth immediately orbited by supporting synths. Then disco strings and drums carried that opening track, “A Prophet Named K.G.,” to a dance floor somewhere on Mars. The only way to properly explain the song’s evolution is a blastoff through a wormhole into a disco-interplanetary dimension. You reach Mars, the prophet K.G. assures you that life exists beyond us, then sends you back through the wormhole on smooth galactic synth lines that land you safely on Earth while you wait for your next call from mission control.
That call is the second track, the title track, and a second confirmation that there is without a doubt Life on Mars. It opens with a duet of spaced-out synths and you immediately know another journey is already underway. A funky lead synth kicks in, soon joined by an equally funky guitar, bass, and drums. Then a female lead vocal reminds you of your first ascent to the red planet. "You should be there, it’s so nice, MARS!" She keeps the reminders coming over the remainder of the track through sparse, perfectly placed vocal drop-ins.
On the third track, “Together Once Again,” she comes back begging for your company over a smooth, synth-driven, soul-buttered ballad. The rest of the album keeps you on a space voyage with pit stops back to Earth. You love, you laugh, you dance, and you do it all while travelling the cosmos.
If space is your place, dig this record no matter what it takes.