Album opener “I’m in Your Mind” punches immediately into a vintage Deep Purple chug with the band’s two drummers hammering out a propulsive beat as singer Stu Mackenzie delivers a few lines of words that rhyme. Besides the titular refrain, it can be hard to tell what exactly he’s saying, but his warm, high-pitched yelp sounds like Rush’s Geddy Lee placing a call on a child’s tin can telephone.
The track explodes into a howling freakout of wah-wah guitar and feedback screeches that flow seamlessly into the next song, “I’m Not in Your Mind,” which in turn morphs unannounced into its successor, “Cellophane.” The first 12 minutes of the record are basically dedicated to variations of this propulsive jam. If you love Hawkwind and/or Jethro Tull, go ahead and strap in for the whole ride. Otherwise, the first four to six minutes will give you the picture.
“Empty” opens with a pulsing, Talking Heads-esque bass throb, and Mackenzie’s unfiltered vocals make the Geddy Lee comparison even more compelling than before. The song heaves itself into a swampy cut-time groove as a flute and a synthesizer emerge from the mix for a duet that is at once pastoral and jumpy. Think Gary Numan performing live in Hobbiton.
“Am I in Heaven?” starts off amidst the meditative harmonies of a chorus’s gentle chant before launching into another vector of a spaced-out solo. Another mellow interlude of classical guitar intervenes for a few seconds before once again ceding center stage to a chug-a-lug of intertwined harmonica and guitar. Later a swirl of synthesizer whooshes and hums.
The elastic bass grooves on “Slow Jam 1” and “Satan Speeds Up” burble along smoothly with more flute and the occasional guitar glissando providing periodic punctuation. On the latter, Mackenzie adopts a soulful falsetto that he totes along into the album’s final track, “Her and I (Slow Jam 2).”
The band saved the best song for last. Another slow, swampy groove sidles around light, clean drumming, creating pockets of comfortable space for simple, lovey-dovey lyrics and trebly wah-wah guitar. The song stretches to right under nine minutes, but here the guitar excursions are more subtle and concise, never turning into the rudderless meanders that dragged down previous tracks on the album. The song is a tasteful collision of adventure and convention, with just enough “Star Trek” sound effects to keep a Lizard Wizard satisfied.
