Setting the stage for the final phase in the sputtering glory period of Montreal celestials , stealthily practiced commercially competent clod but distinguishably disappeared without a trace. Leadoff escapes the fate of ad infinitum wussy via a brisk tempo and cynical lyrics. The herky-jerky breaks with one of those great yuppie moves isolated to the '80s. The dead-on-the-vine vintage pumping out invokes a glorious but extinct custom of quaintness and Quaaludes. Ueber producer co-writes the downright great who cooly cooks in the spotlight ("Leave him alone, he's in the zone"). Weirdo sported a silly video, dressing the boys in some crazy Hoth threads. Like , Canuck kings of , the muscle machine was running out of steam and about to be displaced by handyman ' installation of Canadian Hartland into the American consciousness. But even this late in the game, and company are good for a few choice cuts. The celebrated three-guitar lineup long gone, the rest of the band (included bald dynamo on the skins) dissipated after this release, due to 's dictatorship. Nobody ever expected to achieve so darn much in 's vicious game anyway. ~ Doug Stone