This plain-looking 10-inch from San Francisco?s Wooden Shjips had me hooked within ten seconds of dropping needle to wax. The title track encompasses the entire A-side and is a tripped out head-bobber and/or hip-shaker (this all depends on how much soul you have): a throbbing bass line, simple drum pattern (is that sleigh bells I hear?) and a fuzzed out rhythm guitar are locked together in a brain-searing trance rock embrace. Alien vocals echo back and forth across the stratosphere, fighting to be heard above the soporific din. By the end of the song, the white-hot guitars pretty much overtake every other sound, save the dreadnought bass line that anchors the whole experience deep within your guts.

The B-side is split between two shorter tracks. ?Death?s Not Your Friend? sounds like it was left off White Light/White Heat for, ironically, being too drugged out. On ?Space Clothes,? a disembodied voice runs in both forward and reverse over a droning organ. The voice sounds suspiciously like Sun Ra, although it?s too difficult to be sure. There?s one thing I can be sure of: I?m immediately going to flip the record over now to listen to the A side again. I just can?t get enough! 8/10 -- Bryon Hayes (18 December, 2006)