Susan Cowsill and Vicki Peterson go back a long way as friends and artistic collaborators. Cowsill has been singing on record since the 1960s when she was the tyke in the family band The Cowsills. She and Peterson, guitarist in the ‘80s mega-group The Bangles (“Manic Monday,” “Walk Like An Egyptian”), first got together in 1989, singing their delicious harmonies in what came to be known as the Paisley Underground in Los Angeles. They were in demand as backup singers, and as the Psycho Sisters they toured and recorded with big names like Hootie and the Blowfish and underground rockers like Giant Sand.
Around 1990 they started writing songs together, but they never got around to recording them. They went on to write and sing together in the New Orleans-based alt-rock collective The Continental Drifters. Since that band broke up around 2001, Cowsill has sung solo and fronted her own band, and Peterson has been involved in some Bangles reunions and such. But they were finally able to set aside some time in the past couple of years to get together and make a record of their own. So they dusted off some of those old songs and recorded them with a small band that includes a couple of drummers: Cowsill’s husband Russ Broussard (Continental Drifters) and Peterson’s husband John Cowsill – that’s right, she’s married to one of Susan’s brothers, so they really are sisters now.
Their voices have always blended the way real sisters’ do, and that’s evident on all 10 songs on Up On The Chair, Beatrice. But the harmonies are most delicious on the opening track, the chamber-folk “Heather Says” a bittersweet waltz about a girl boss (which was co-written by longtime L.A. session musician and Cowsills associate Waddy Wachtel).
Jack Craft and Sam Craft contribute cello and violin to several songs, along with Janson Lohmeyer on keyboards and percussionist Tony Daigle. Special notice goes to Derrick Anderson for superb electric bass throughout. The Sisters and Daigle produced and arranged the songs, and the players all add to the varied sounds and colors. Peterson’s distorted electric guitars plus the swooping string arrangement gives “Numb” a feel somewhere between acid folk and prog rock, while the fiddle line sounds a bit Celtic on the folky duet “Gone Fishin’ ” and Cajun on the mid-tempo break-up rocker “This Painting.” “Timberline,” a slinky, soulful love song, splits the difference between L.A. and La., with lots of tinkling and slithering percussion, soaring B-3 organ on the bridge, and the Sisters’ voices sliding up and down in vocal glissandos.
The rest of the record is more pop- and rock-oriented, from the pure pop perfection of “Never Never Boys” to the dark, heavy power pop of “Wish You.” In between is the jangly Topanga folk rock of “Fun To Lie,” the Bangles-meets dB’s sound of Peter Holsapple’s rave-up “What Do You Want From Me” and the sugary closer (with some nevertheless tart harmonies), Harry Nilsson’s “Cuddly Toy,” which was sung by Davy Jones on one of The Monkees’ records.
Even without the 22-year-old pictures of Susan and Vicki on the back and inside of the CD’s sleeve, it’s fairly obvious that most of these are vintage songs. That’s not to take anything away from this fabulously fun record. I just hope the Psycho Sisters continue on in this vein and show us what’s on their minds and up their musical sleeves these days. More, please!
(Rock Beat, 2014)
