A typical description of involves references to the theoretically similar but inherently antithetical West Coast bands and , and it does in fact play something like a cross between those two groups, though with none of the musical nuance and aesthetic vision -- and none of the existential considerations -- of the former and with all the unrelenting bombast and sonic pretension of the latter. What it does have in common with is its organ-heavy, acid-touched moodiness and its dense underpinning, though it is unable to do anything significantly innovative with either element. And like , draped their music in a sometimes smothering, cerebrum-numbing blanket of quasi- guitar. The band, indeed, took their very seriously, and that leads to a good number of earnestly overblown moments. It also causes the nearly 40 minutes of music to drag as a whole and to dull one's appreciation for their more enticing aspects. And such aspects, though few, do indeed exist here. aren't songs so much as chances to jam on changes, but each has some commanding moments. And the 12-minute is less atmospheric or disorienting than (seemingly its model), but it has some worth nonetheless, though in a vaguely ham-handed way. This band must have undoubtedly provoked some gut-thumping excitement for their live audience, blasting from ballrooms with an accompanying swirl of smoke and a kinetic surreality. The fact that it has been bootlegged attests to the fascination it still elicits. The album has not, unfortunately, worn particularly well (though considerably better than ). Still, it provides an interesting glimpse into the heavier, more straight-ahead side of San Francisco . ~ Stanton Swihart