Curtis Almaron Mackey
IN ADDITION TO 74 minutesī worth of brain-melting psychedelia from one of the greatest Texas garage bands ever to stagger from den to rehearsal room, you also get a handy graph outlining the ratio of pot intake to listening enjoyment. Since these hemp farmers never toured, fans had to be content, anyway, with extended bong sessions grokking the three extant albums.
This postscript has loads of ferocious live gunk, fuzzed-out riffers falling somewhere between MC5, Black Sabbath and Hawkwind. A lighter, more sunbaked touch comes through on the studio material, most notably the 14-minute flute/Moog/guitar inner space excursion "Holger" which sprinkles a dash of peyote into the bowl.