As much of a ripple as the reissue of this lost psychedelic gem has caused in small circles, I find it kind of boring. When the songs occasionally get going, they’re interesting and well performed. But there seems to me a fine line between outsider art and just a guy dicking around on acid. Some lore really services itself better staying lore. I might be a philistine, but it’s not fun to listen to long tape pauses and mumbled speculation. I see the value in the songwriting here and I see the value of the experimentation. There are moments where crickets and odd electronically enhanced noises create some hope and atmosphere. Tweedle has a great voice and a command of his abilities when he plays. But at some point a banana is just a banana. It just doesn’t come together for me. This album is a record of a talented guy who discovered LSD. I know I’m supposed to find that charming; maybe I’m just not in the mood today. To those who dissent my opinion about it, I have to ask: have you put this album on more than once? I was more intrigued by his $1,000 cowboy hats online. He makes a great hat. Seriously.
–Billups Allen (ever/never)