SuperTodd5000 MusicExplosion

The Small Faces. Four well-dressed diminutive mods in search of a proper psychedelic album found their Holy Grail in between the grooves of a long player that landed on God’s Earth in 1968. Of course it’s called Ogdens’ Nut Gone Flake. Why not?

This heavily played record is a basher. It’s unlike any other I’ve heard in the genre. Excellent musicianship, interesting production, hilarious East End accents (“Ello Mrs. Jones, ow’s your Bert’s lumbago?”) and a kind of self-parody come together to punch you in the kidneys after tickling your toesies.

The bulk of what is called “psychedelic music” is often overly serious and occasionally too self-aware. The first bit of this record – the opening instrumental title track in particular – might fool you into thinking you’re in for a pretentious festival of swirling guitars and echoing organ runs. You’d be forgiven for thinking something like that, but it is a great cut. But it’s the next track – Afterglow (Of Your Love) – that will set you straight for the rest of the record. Mostly. It starts with some hand clapping, East End mumbling, bongos and acoustic guitar before descending into a heavy Motown-fueled soulful punch of overcranked musicianship that feels like the older, tougher brother of another, earlier Small Faces winner called “All Or Nothing.” And that’s not nothing, my friends. Strong medicine indeed.

More hand claps and heavily echoed organ kick off the next track – Long Agos And World’s Apart – which serves as a romping bridge to the next song – Rene. Pronounced “Reeney” by a mugging, winking Steve Marriott, this one’s a song and a half really. It’s the story of Rene – the docker’s delight – and it reminds me of the kind of old-timey fishermans’ songs until it kicks into an instrumental psychedelic freakout. Which is a good thing because it works. Probably because Ronnie Lane, Kenney Jones, Ian McLagan and Steve Marriott manage not to overthink their brand of psychedelic. Song Of A Baker then pulls itself up by it’s flour and water and forms itself into a quite a pie indeed. The last cut on the A side of this long player is Lazy Sunday. Hilarious. Even more so because it was written as a joke and accidentally (?) released by Immediate Records as a single (to Mr. Marriott’s great displeasure). But like so many tales of pop groups and record labels, the joke managed to be on everyone. Lazy Sunday became a number 2 hit in Great Britain.

Flip this long-player over. But not before preparing yourself. Suck down a pint of your favorite ale, tickle the wife and scream out the window to clear your pipes. It’s on side two where this business of not taking psychedelia too serious gets down to business. It’s all about some Cockney cat named Happiness Stan – narrated throughout by a real Stan – Stanley Unwin. I don’t know where the Small Faces found this guy but man is he freaky. Funny too. Speaks nonsense to my ears but I can’t be sure. He’s probably some Lord of Hamburger-Wolverhampton. Rollin’ Over is the second track and it’s worth the wait. Heavy bit of flash, this one is. A few more dollops of psych follow in the form of The Hungry Intruder (a light moment), The Journey (silly stuff really), and Mad John (great vocals by Mr. Marriott!). The record finishes with Happy Days Toy Town – a song that shockingly reveals the meaning of life through the opening line “Life is just a bowl of All-Bran!” It’s a downhill giggle the rest of the way, love.

And, that’s it exactly. The Small Faces introduce us to a giggle of a psych album that somehow manages to rock hard enough to keep your toe tapping and give you something to think about. Sure keeps your mind off the war in Indo-China.

For weirdos only: The record pictured above is a Get Back label reissue of the original 1968 LP. Good luck finding a clean original! The package ripped off a brand of tobacco called Ogdens’ Nut-Brown Flake. The cheek! Some guy named Mick Swan designed the cover. Nice work, Mick! Ogdens’ was the last studio record of new material by this line-up. Not long after it’s release, Steve Marriott jumped into a band called Humble Pie with future talk-box weirdo Peter Frampton. But in these early days Humble Pie were an authentic blues-rock group worthy of their name. The hole left in the Small Faces was filled by two well-known rockers – Rod Stewart and Ronnie Wood. They cut one LP as The Small Faces and then dropped the “Small” after realizing Ronnie was a hair over 5’6” tall with the right haircut. God bless his socks.

Apr 23

Strike while the iron’s hot I say. Ted Nugent seems to be hot all over America again. I’m not sure why this time. Having long ago given up on mainstream media (I get most of my news from Trouser Press and Creem Magazine), I can only surmise that all this watercooler talk about Ted Nugent must be about one thing – his liberal use of guitar savagery! America, I’ll never figure out how you work, but I love you. By the way, so does former President Jimmy Carter who, though being a small man, has a big heart for this country. And one suspects, a big love of Ted Nugent’s music.

Within Ted Nugent’s oeuvre, this particular album – Tooth, Fang & Claw – is actually credited to Ted Nugent’s Amboy Dukes. It came out in The Year Of Our Lord Nineteen Hundred and Seventy Four and it fills an interesting niche. That niche being the Middle Ages between the Amboy Duke’s psychedelic late 1960s and early 70s chugging ooze and the late 70s guitar-as-shotgun solo music assault on the senses that became “Ted Nugent” the man. And, not surprisingly, the band. My thinking is that by 1974, Ted Nugent still liked the name Amboy Dukes and thought it was helpful to him on his journey to becoming the Motor City Madman. He appears to be right.

Any way you slice it, this album is a heavy rocker. Some of you who may not be familiar with this period of Ted’s work might dismiss it as overly sentimental or light-hearted. It isn’t. It’s got a loud, kerranging, crunching approach not without humor and a soft supple side. Now that you’re intrigued, let’s dive into the tracks on the album.

Lady Luck leads things off. No it’s not about gambling. It’s about the Virginia Slims generation. You’ve come a long way, baby and Uncle Ted doesn’t want you to forget it. I think this track is written as a gift to Gloria Steinem. Living in the Woods is exactly what you think it is – a romantic story about Ted’s upbringing by mother wolf and father bear. The first side of this record ends with a long instra-mental and it’s called Hibernation. I challenge any of you to sleep through this one! It gives your insides a kind of primordial body shake. You’re almost afraid to flip the record to hear side two.

Do it anyway. Something amazing happens. The second side begins with another non-vocal workout. This one’s called Free Flight and it’s sensational. I think it shows off Ted’s sensitive side as it dips and ascends into rock ‘n’ roll inner-space. I think it’s about the history of American altruism but how can you tell when there are no words? Give it a listen and you’ll see what I mean. The next cut – Maybelline – was written by Chuck Berry as an ode to modern cosmetics. Nugent’s version is a weird interpretation. But worth hearing I think.

The Great White Buffalo deserves its own paragraph. It has nothing to do with the Dustin Hoffman movie - Little Big Man. You’ve heard it somewhere. You just forgot about it. America, come home to The Great White Buffalo. It was a concert favorite for years and I think it’s about an albino buffalo that looks like Edgar Winter but I can’t be sure.

Sasha is the meandering and beautifully toned acoustic-electric-mellow rocker your mom never knew Ted Nugent had in him. But he did! Now you can now laugh in your mom’s face! No Holds Barred is hard to categorize. I guess I’d call it a mounted gun for firing heavy projectiles type song. It closes out this long player and it’s a good finisher. It’s got plenty of moments where you think it might end but doesn’t. A fun-loving romp of an album that comes highly recommended.

So wash down your double cheeseburger with a can of beer and get out to your local record store to score this rock ‘n’ roll mutation.

For weirdos only: The Amboy Dukes, Ted Nugent and The Amboy Dukes, and Ted Nugent’s Amboy Dukes are tricky to follow. There are any number of albums, compilations and collections of different incarnations of these bands. While I might not get this right to the letter of the law, think of it this way. If the band is called The Amboy Dukes, the music was most likely recorded between 1967 - 1969 and is largely blues-based psychedelia that’s first rate (Journey To The Center Of The Mind being their most famous single). Anything called Ted Nugent’s Amboy Dukes or Ted Nugent and The Amboy Dukes is probably a heavy rocking affair that lives down around the corner from Ted’s hard-rocking stuff that ruled the FM airwaves in the late 70s. While right thinking people these days concern themselves with Ted Nugent’s “boorish” behavior, this writer finds his guitar work to be boarish in the best possible way. Keep smiling, weirdos.

Apr 18

Make no mistake. Runt is the band that is Todd Rundgren. It’s supposedly a real band but I have my doubts. From where I sit, I guess Todd Rundgren – the Philly based anglophile rocker from The Nazz – had so much faith in his first solo album that he didn’t put his name on it anywhere. Almost. If you look closely you can see he scribbled it on some paper in the bottom right corner of the album cover. Not a confident start, really. Though a great one.

The Nazz. Now that was a band. Three great albums if you ask me. If you ask Todd Rundgren he’d give you the usual tortured artist story about only wanting to release one good album, couldn’t sing on his own songs (nearly all of them) and that the record company released sub-par material on Nazz Nazz and Nazz III. I’m not having any of it. Great records. All of them, Todd. All.

Back to Runt. It came out in 1970 and as far as I can tell, the songs fit into three basic categories. All out rockers (Broke Down & Busted, Who’s That Man?, Devil’s Bite). Tentative sad sack stuff of legend (Believe In Me, Once Burned, I’m In The Clique). Hit record attempts [We Gotta Get You A Woman, Don’t Tie My Hands (which is really part of a weirdo trilogy song thing)].

Now that we’re on the topic, Mr. Rundgren did score a hit with We Gotta Get You A Woman. I think he wrote that for Joe Namath based on a misunderstanding that Joe was tentative with girls.

This entire record is self-conscious, claustrophobic and great. It’s just plain great. I don’t understand any of it but I love it.

I’m not sure what the malady is called, but in my opinion Todd Rundgren suffered from a rare disorder early in his career where he actually believed he was a black British soul singer who became all four Beatles. Imagine the waistcoats he must own! The good news is that Todd Rundgren really knew how to overcome.

There’s something else. I can’t prove it, but I strongly suspect that Todd Rundgren taught a high school rock band and jazz combo to play every note of this album over many months fueled by Pixie Sticks, cans of Coke and the promise of groupies only to pull the rug out from under them, wipe all their performances from the master tapes and re-record every note himself. In his grandmother’s basement.

For weirdos only: I looked forever and a day to find my copy of this long player. In a move not out of character with the rock ‘n’ roll weirdo I described above, there was some controversy over the release of this album. There are supposedly three versions out there – two on Ampex Records (one with twelve tracks; one with eleven). I’ve got the less desirable ten track version on Bearsville(distributed by Ampex). Rundgren must hate putting out records! And, I had to bust my butt to find a copy of the album that wasn’t trashed. They’re always beat beyond recognition. Usually the sign of a good album (or any Black Oak Arkansas record).

Apr 16

No way. It’s a rock ‘n’ roll kick to the skull. Just the way I like it. Fact is, the first track – Ramblin’ Gamblin’ Man – kicks you in the head and then stomps your solar plexus after you fall to the ground shaking like your grandma’s bundt cake shaped lime jello.

I wanted to hate this slab of wax from 1968 – The Bob Seger System’s first LP – based on my experience with 1980s truck commercials drenched in MOR rock music from Bob Seger. Thing of it is, when you hear that much MOR rock music over and over all day long you begin to loathe it.

But there’s nothing to loathe in the grooves of Bob’s first outing as a rocker. The worst that can be said about this record is that some of the cuts are a bit hippy dippy (“Gone” comes to mind).

But when the Bob Seger System nails it – “Tales Of Lucy Blue”, “Down Home”, “Ivory”, “White Wall” and the title track – they really hammer it in. If Vice President Biden were to ask me to describe this album in terms he’d understand, I’d probably say it was musculoskeletal psychedelic rhythm ‘n’ blues with a dollop of country folk thrown in to scare the crap out of you.

And, that’s what this record did for me. It scared the crap out of me. Because there’s a lot to love about it. And I wasn’t ready to love Seger. There’s thudding, pounding, hammering, screeching and a few moments where you stick your head out the window to escape the smoke and breathe in some of that sweet, cool Motor City air. I love those things in a rock record. A rock record that sounds like Detroit in 1968.

I can actually imagine UAW workers listening to this record as they pounded together a car with some serious curb weight. Sensational. And that my friend, is factual.

For weirdos only: Allow me to get on a teensy weensy soap box for a second. A close look at this record would lead the uninitiated to think I dropped $5.69 for this LP at Laury’s Records. A great deal by me. A real close look will reveal a “Clearance $.50” sticker top right. That’s right, weirdos. Yours truly scored this slab of wax a mere two weeks ago at a used book store for half a buck. Shrink wrap intact. Sure, it’s an early 80s reissue. But 50 cents? Mint condition. It boggles the mind. Talk about an inflation beater! That’s twelve full inches of artwork (Kinda naughty in this case if you look close. Shame on you Capitol Records!) with eleven songs carved neatly into two sides of a vinyl story created by someone desperately trying to tell you something they think is important. Try finding a music file at a used bookstore that can duplicate this action. Go ahead, try it. Take that, digital!

Mar 02

The most pop punk band from Derry, Northern Ireland? The punkest pop band? Can there be any doubt? Admittedly, I’ve never tooled around Derry’s sectarian streets looking for a better band. But I’ll venture a guess that there’ll never be another single cranking machine from up there who’s any better. Have a look for yourself. Bear in mind they’d spot a poser like you in a flash and box your ears.

This short canary cage liner of an article will explore my fascination with the first Undertones long player. A gift from God to the world from guitarist bruvvers Damian and John O’Neill, bassist Michael Bradley, Billy Doherty on the sticks and a concave-chested gent named Feargal Sharkey on lead warble. I once said Mr. Sharkey was the poor man’s Bryan Ferry and nearly got punched in the mouth. I stand by it as long as the goons are gone. Sure, one’s more of a quivverer and the other a warbler. But still, nobody knows how either of ‘em does it.

Let’s get into the thick of it. First off, the record you see above is the second pressing of the band’s first LP released on Sire Records. God bless you Seymour Stein (the Sire Records genius responsible for signing The Ramones, The Dead Boys, The Flamin’ Groovies and on and on.). I guess he signed them to Sire because “they got sawngs.” You see, Seymour loves bands that have songs. More on that another day. My copy came out in October 1979 and has two front covers. Sort of. You can flip it and both sides have a cover photo. Either that or no back cover. My head hurts thinking about it. Most import, however, is the fact that the October ’79 copy has two additional tracks including a real life saver – Teenage Kicks!

Teenage Kicks is the best single ever recorded according to John Peel. It was the BBC radio impresario’s favorite song until his untimely death a few years back. Think about it. Of all the songs John Peel heard in his life, he considered Teenage Kicks the ultimate. The numero uno. Boggles the mind. Makes me want to wolf a Mars bar right now!

But this album is packed with singles even if they weren’t released as such. In addition to the two listed above, you gotta love the sweet surround of songs coming at you on this record – Family Entertainment, Girls Don’t Like It, Male Model (!!!), I Gotta Getta, Jimmy Jimmy, Here Comes The Summer, and more! My guess is you’re not going to find too many records from 1979 with as many two minute masterpieces! If you do, prove it. Tell me about it. I want to hear it.

For weirdos only: The first pressing of this record came out a few months earlier – May 1979 – and has a black and white photo of the band. Here’s a case where it’s better not to be the early bird. The second pressing has the first beat by two full songs – Teenage Kicks and Get Over You. Two serious singles, m’friend! Curiously, the October pressing sports a re-recorded version of Here Comes The Summer. Not sure why. Both versions are very similar. I know because I have a compact disc (blasphemer!) reissue of the album with all kinds of bonus tracks. Worth it, punters.

Feb 29

Lights Out by UFO. The album. The song. I know what you’re thinking. “Finally, this joker reviews a dependable album.” Guess what, weirdos? This review is going to tackle the politics of this album. Sort of. Take that! You see, this album isn’t without some controversy.

Is the song Lights Out about the World War II bombings of London as I told my wary, sonicly challenged parents in the late 1970s? I sure thought so. I had no reason to doubt our neighborhood expert who told me so. He was the older brother of a friend of mine and I had it on good authority that he knew his stuff. He had more records than me, he’d kissed a girl and I saw him smoking once. The trifecta!

Remember, in late 1970s America, bands like UFO were actively solving one of America’s biggest problems - boredom. Face it, heavy rockers like UFO, AC/DC and punkers like The Ramones, The Undertones and others were pulling us kids out of a Frampton-induced malaise. Nobody knew more about exciting issues like sleeping with the TV on, drinking Coca-Cola for breakfast and the Nazi bombings of London during The Big War than the rock groups.

Here’s the deal. Maybe this song – Lights Out – isn’t about London bombings at all. Maybe it’s about the electricity shortages, strikes, and industrial unrest of 1970s England. Seems convincing. After all, those issues would provide better inspiration for a group of English rockers and their famously bare-chested German friend. But how do we confirm the band’s intentions?

I suppose I could ask the guys who wrote the song. According to the liner notes, four guys wrote it. Let’s start with Michael Schenker. Already we have a problem. Mr. Schenker doesn’t remember being in UFO. There’s also a vicious rumor that he’s in a romantic relationship with a Gibson Flying V once owned by Howlin’ Wolf. I could ask either singer Phil Mogg or bassist Pete Way but they too suffer from an unusual form of memory loss. In their case, it’s attributed to decades of spandex abuse. So we’re down to the drummer. It turns out Andy Parker is available by telephone but is despondent and seems to be singularly interested in discussing pending litigation related to his being swindled out of his investment in some sort of “inflatable cricket team.”

Since we’ll likely never get a real answer, let’s move on. It turns out the Lights Out album isn’t only about that one song. The album has another radio staple in Too Hot To Handle, a song right thinking people believe helped to create a population boom in Cleveland, Detroit and Chicago in 1977-1978. And let’s face it, the album ender – Love To Love – whoa! Pounding, thudding, circuitous! Speaking of Love. Did you know that Lights Out boasts a cover of a song by 1960s hippie band Love? Yeah, that Love. The band fronted by Arthur Lee and his buddy Bryan MacLean. Alone Again Or is performed very faithfully. Despite the fact the band took issue with the grammar.

It’d be hard to do a review of this album – which is a crucial record in any collection – without mentioning the guitar prowess of Michael Schenker. If you don’t know who he is, ask any roached out, long-haired mumbler in any bus terminal in America. They’ll all tell you the same three things about Michael Schenker. He’s technically amazing, soulful and he’s Margaret Thatcher’s favorite hard rocker. Take that, Labour!

For weirdos only: Too Hot To Handle (the first cut on Lights Out) is a favorite of Tennessee’s very own Tipper Gore! Her husband Al Gore (former Vice President of the United States) co-wrote one riff in that number and told her the song was about an overcooked plate of bangers and mash.

Here’s something. Those of you with keen eyes may have noticed my alternate cover of the Lights Out album. I own a rare Hungarian test pressing with a “559” tattoo on the huge shirtless guy’s chest. On with the action.

Feb 18

I know how silly that sounds. Honest I do. I just can’t come up with a better way to describe this record in one sentence given the tight deadline I’m dealing with on this torturous music blog. I’m not even sure if I’m reviewing this album or if it’s reviewing me. Since dropping a needle onto this record I’ve had a confused, hazy feeling. One thing is certain. This record is the fairly righteous rocking curiosity known as Bull Of The Woods by the 13^th Floor Elevators, the darlings of late 1960s Austin, Texas. So smitten by the band were local authorities that they ran them off to San Francisco (how predictable!) and locked up their lead singer (Roky Erickson) in a mental institution.

This review attempts to settle once and for all an issue we’ve all been grappling with since puberty – is Bull Of The Woods a worthy final studio statement from the sweethearts of the south Texas psychedelic rodeo? The answer is yes. But you’d like some proof and I don’t blame you.

The record is unusual in the 13^th Floor Elevators canon in that there’s much less electric jug from Tommy Hall, a lot less Roky Erickson (legal problems related to “exhaustion”), more horns and a lot more writing, guitar noodling and singing from Stacy Sutherland. On paper this should mean that Bull Of The Woods stinks. And while there is an aroma wafting out of the grooves cut into the lacquer, it’s not a bad one. Rather, it’s the smell of the sun-drenched, dew-covered grasslands of a south Texas pasture. Albeit a weird one.

Let’s start by laying it on the line my friends. This record isn’t as good as their shockingly awesome first record – The Psychedelic Sounds Of The 13^th Floor Elevators. And it’s not as strangely trippy as their second LP – Easter Everywhere. But it is a fine record.

The best songs are sung by Roky Erickson (four of them). Those include the opener – Livin’ On – a great single with really neat unpredictable drumming. Never Another has me cheering on the electric jug which rests comfortably high in the mix. Dr. Doom isn’t as gloomy as it sounds. Although who knows? I can’t figure out what it’s about but it sounds great and has some horns that come out of nowhere.

Sure, Roky’s a better singer but he was in jail! It’s a good thing the songs sung by Stacy Sutherland hold their own. Barnyard Blues sounds a little bit like Season Of The Witch by Donovan but more lo-fi, psych-like in its approach. Till Then sounds like something a less super-serious Jefferson Airplane might’ve cut if they weren’t so pompous and were more earthy. Rose And The Thorn is a romping, ghost-imbued rocker. Give a listen and you’ll understand what “ghost imbued” means. Down By The River (not the Neil Young song) is a great pulsing, oozing thing imploring you to get down to the river because that’s where it’s at, man. And at less than two minutes it states its case and then moves on to Scarlet And Gold, which is a thumping and chugging workout with a bass heavy groove. Street Song is a layered piercing guitar story about a guy wanting to go back to the country. It’s at odds with itself in a good way.

The final song on the album is May The Circle Remain Unbroken and it’s amazing. If you’ve ever heard anything like it before I want to meet you and your parents at a Denny’s of your choice to discuss it. This song defies time and invents a new dimension. It almost literally reaches in to your spleen and fools your body into thinking it’s a spaceship trying to peel out in pool of molten molasses. Which makes me hungry for pancakes.

In the final analysis I think I’ve proven that purchasing this record is probably a civic duty. Buy it and if you don’t like it I’ll get somebody to refund your money. Keep in mind, however, that not buying this record may prove to be un-American. Look what that got Alger Hiss!

For weirdos only: The red vinyl pressing being reviewed was pressed in Italy on the Get Back Lo-Cost label (ironically, it wasn’t that cheap). God bless the Italians! There’s an extended version of this album inside the Sign Of The 3 Eyed Men box set. This box set is now hideously rare but worth seeking out if you love this group like I do. The bonus tracks on the compact disc in the box set are: Livin’ On (single version), Scarlet And Gold (single version), May The Circle Remain Unbroken (single version), Livin’ On (alternate horn arrangement), and Bull Of The Woods Bay Area Radio Spot (Finally, right?).

Feb 10

Regarding Monk.

Year after year, my favo(u)rite jazz music. Because he recorded for 78’s, he kept the songs short. It’s like jazz concentrate that you pour into your soul to make life-nourishing jazz-brosia.

Jan 27

Think Pink, Parker!!!

Hey, with only four songs this story should be shorter than the stories I write about LPs right? We’ll see. I may not have enough time to make it shorter.

The Pink Parker. On Vertigo. An E.P. - Extended Play for the uninitiated. Four cuts. With The Rumour backing him up to the wall! This record sounds like it was recorded under a tall table in the corner of a North London pub filled with smoke, sweat and at least two guys named Ivor looking to pound you into the ground after downing nine ciders - before the show starts. And, I’m just describing the two studio cuts - Hold Back The Night (by The Trammps!!) and (Let Me Get) Sweet On You. The other two cuts are recorded live and this nifty little EP says they’re taken from the hideously rare “Live at Marble Arch” bootleg album. How ‘bout that? Beating the bootleggers at their own game. The cheek! The live cuts? Sizzling versions of White Honey and Soul Shoes from the very first Graham Parker and The Rumour long player - Howlin’ Wind. My six year old daughter heard these live tracks this morning before school and said “This sounds awesome!” Which it does.

The Rumour? Pub rockers extraordinaire. I’m talking about Brinsley Schwarz (g; and formerly of the band Brinsley Schwarz with Nick Lowe, et.al.), Andrew Bodnar (b), Stephen Goulding (d), Martin Belmont (g) and Bob Andrews (k; and also formerly of The Brinsleys).

But it’s, Graham Parker on lead sneer all the way. Doing what he could to anticipate Elvis Costello’s sneer and one-up it before Costello even cut an album. Talk about foresight! True, they’re a goofy looking lot but they know how to rock.

If you click this sentence you’ll see the proof!

For weirdos only: Graham Parker thanks Brian Robertson of “Thin Lizzy’s” on the sparse liner notes on this slab of pink wax. I have no idea why. Do you know? And, if you were wondering where Graham Parker’s been hiding since the early 80s, I know. In the $1.00 bins at America’s local record shops. I see his albums constantly hiding out under the full price records. If I were you, I’d get down on my knees and start digging in the P section because they’re usually in great condition and cost a buck. No kiddin’. I bought this E.P. earlier this week for exactly 49¢. Special thanks to Spindlephonic Alan for reintroducing me to the merits of Mr. Parker and friends.

spindleman asked: I feel like the photo on this Long Riders album was inspired by the Jefferson Airplane's 'Crown of Creation' LP cover. The part inside the mushroom cloud. What do you think?

Hey Spindleman! Good to hear from you again. Color palette is dead on isn’t it? You could be on to something.