Relaxing With… (Cargo)
by Austin Nash
Grace Jones once said that any moron can play psychedelic rock. I’m no longer sure the wench even knew what it was. Psychedelic rock is The Heads, with emphasis on the “rock.” Slick inside, chicken ride, all aside, I’m not sure what to think, save that it’s like being at a Hovercraft show without the movie. The album is HEAVY instrumental with intelligible spoken word from behind, and evokes the image of a naked woman in an ethereal pile of pillows and quilts a few tokes under (see the album cover). This one provokes the indefatigable feeling of a Saturday afternoon spent drinking champagne. Hazy blue noise, swagger-smoking a Havana Banana, not really paying attention to anything. The phone doesn’t ring, roommates’ girlfriends don’t speak. The only thing you notice is that you have to pee and it’s sunny outside.