Upon first release, 's self-titled third album must have surprised their fans nearly as much as their first two albums shocked the few mainstream music fans who heard them. After testing the limits of how musically and thematically challenging could be on and , this 1969 release sounded spare, quiet, and contemplative, as if the previous albums documented some manic, speed-fueled party and this was the subdued morning after. (The album's relative calm has often been attributed to the departure of the band's most committed avant-gardist, , in the fall of 1968; the arrival of new bassist ; and the theft of the band's amplifiers shortly before they began recording.) But 's lyrical exploration of the demimonde is as keen here as on any album he ever made, while displaying a warmth and compassion he sometimes denied his characters. may be more muted in approach than what the band had done in the past, but made it clear still loved , and (which mixes and matches four separate poetic narratives) is as brave and uncompromising as anything on . This album sounds less like than any of their studio albums, but it's as personal, honest, and moving as anything ever committed to tape. ~ Mark Deming