Christ,
this thing smokes. This ain’t rock n’ roll baby, this is jungle warfare.
Hamburg’s kings of gutterfuzz Nixon Now burst outta the murk of
their terminal Mc5-itis with a new sense of purpose. That purpose? To blow
your fuckin’ brains all over the wall with a bull elephant roar of Nam
chick voodoo-psyche meltdown rock delivered in quick, deadly doses. Forget
about all the stonerjam junk brewing around NN’s scene, these maulers are
in it purely for the action and adrenaline – dig the rugged, wild-eyed
shitstorms of “I Live in a Car”, “Madman”, or
the monstrous opener “Revolver” for easy, sleazy examples.
This album woulda terrified the hippies right back to jazz if it was
released in ’69. Hell, it might do the same to you today. Better keep a
beret handy, just in case. ________________________________________________________
Christ,
this thing smokes. This ain’t rock n’ roll baby, this is jungle warfare.
Hamburg’s kings of gutterfuzz Nixon Now burst outta the murk of
their terminal Mc5-itis with a new sense of purpose. That purpose? To blow
your fuckin’ brains all over the wall with a bull elephant roar of