Music for the threshhold between night and day. That brief moment when the sky is unsure about its character, spinning hues of purple and red and pink.
These guys are so far beyond me it’s amazing and things. It’s like they’re poets, except they’ve got guitars. “No more maybes/ Babies got rabies” – I mean, wow.
KC: I’m the best there is, so everyone should come down and see me.
CB: (sarcastically) You’re not biased at all, are you?
KC: Yes, I am. I love women.
Done Sid’s way. Which is to say it’s incredibly badly recorded, the performances are sloppy as hell, and the audience sounds like a buncha drunken yahoos.
The gentlemen whip up several soul-funk concoctions and toss in some gospel-tinge and six-string sludge, but mostly, though, this throbs with sex electronica.