The second album in this early 70s Groundhog run finds McPhee turning inward, from his experience with a panic attack. Of course, based on the time period and general tone, one would naturally assume drugs were involved, but from what I’ve read on McPhee, he was not a drug user. Anyway, the title track is a big, four-section movement of sorts – nothing much to do with classical music – but it starts off with McPhee making allusions to the morning being a “thousand miles away”, and by the time it wraps up, you have been through the ringer and then some. “Split” is obviously heavy, personal, emotional stuff he needed to unburden from his psyche. Whether it is as cutting and directly grabbing as the material from the previous album – well, I have my doubts – but then again, this is a different experience altogether, and taken on its’ own terms, the deal is executed as well as it should be. Even better is “Cherry Red”, a 50’s derived, proto-punk-ish rave-up where McPhee hits the highest registers that his voice will allow – whether this is out of pure joy or anger is up for small debate, but still, this is the most butt-kickin’ track here by a long shot. What follows is more along the lines of previous works – “A Year in the Life” and “Junkman” have serious echoes of the class and environmental concerns which was all over Thank Christ for the Bomb, while “Groundhog” reminds us of the band’s past, being a cover of a John Lee Hooker tune, replete with judicious use of slide guitar. In conclusion, it’s pretty much like we have two distinct EP’s smashed together for one cool odds-and-ends mish-mash LP, which is fine by me, and I’m sure many other listeners out there.