Soul-synth from a forgotten LA studio

LOG 056: Retrieved from a Lockbox in the North Corridor, Marked “ALERT: CONTAINS ECHO”

Recorded 1971 · Private Press Psych/Soul/Outsider Funk

There’s rare, and then there’s this.

Originally pressed in a run of maybe a dozen acetates under the name Heitkotter, this is one of those albums that lived as a whisper among collectors — the kind of record you'd hear about in half-sentences, as if speaking its name too clearly would cause it to vanish again.

Stephan David Heitkotter was a Fresno-based drummer with dreams of recording something that felt like a transmission. What he made — in a haze of mental health struggles, lost time, and strange weather — was something else entirely: a psych-soul freakout on the edge of collapse. It’s funky, but not tight. Groovy, but not composed. It sounds like a band that’s two seconds from falling apart, and that’s exactly what makes it special.

The tracks — all instrumental — are rambling, ghostly, drenched in tape hiss. Drum fills wander off, guitars tangle in themselves, and organs swell like a fever dream. It’s outsider funk, but with that Los Angeles sun-glare turning everything surreal.

For years, it existed as myth. But in 2014, Now-Again Records unearthed it and gave it the full reissue treatment, complete with the mysterious black-and-white photo cover — Heitkotter in profile, looking like someone who knew exactly what was coming and chose to record it anyway.

There are echoes of Shuggie Otis in the guitar tones, but the looseness and lack of structure puts it closer to damaged soul-jazz or a lost Wu-era RZA beat tape. It’s as if the whole record is being played just for itself, with no intention of release. Which, of course, it wasn’t.

File under: outsider psych, lost soul, pre-apocalyptic groove.
TPV Rotation: best heard in late-night sets and strange soul transmissions.