The legend of Big Dik Blak is not quite in the league of Bigfoot, the Loch Ness Monster and the Bermuda Triangle, but we’re not far off. Hailing from the wilds of Canada and a discography big enough to rival the tons of fish he used to pack in the now deserted fishing docks. Perhaps it’s this strange isolation which has imparted such an engagingly weird world that Big Dik Blak has created. You’ll be relieved to know Mr Blak was not Christened thus.
Born George Swan, Big Dik Blak is the moniker he has assumed for his post-band work (he was previously in The Rash and Patsy Decline) which is essentially an ever-evolving solo project. Though his name may suggest a contemporary urban sound, it’s actually the rather lumberjack/redneck persona he’s attempting to project, his website an anarchic avalanche of information both truthful and ridiculous – in which ratio, it’s tricky to tell. If you recall the way Sub Pop marketed Tad Doyle from TAD, as a dim-witted, primal beast from the forest (at complete odds with his intelligent, musically gifted self), you’ll be getting to where George is.
…and so, to the music itself. A Jon Lord-esque Hammond organ attempting to squeeze itself though the narrow passageways carved by buzz-chain guitars is a common theme, as are George’s gleefully unhinged lyrics about everything from lost loves to meals of jellyfish. Occasionally, songs stretch themselves out to emerge as sprawling blues-rock instrumentals that are like grounded versions of Hawkwind. It’s decidedly odd but the sheer volume of it makes it well worth dipping in and out of.