Out of all of the pioneers of hard rock and heavy metal, Mountain has to be the most underrated and underappreciated, due to a few factors - their rather jumbled history, comparative lack of output, and obvious links between them and psychedelic power-trio Cream, which got them unjustly pegged as copycats. The group was born from what was essentially a beneficial partnership between struggling singer-guitarist Leslie West and producer-insider Felix Pappalardi, which is where the Cream connection came in. The latter saw the talent in the former, played on West's debut solo record (confusingly titled "Mountain"), then the two together created the lineup for the band which would be known as Mountain, forevermore. Climbing! has been pooh-poohed as Big and Bluster, and no substance by many critics, but they miss the point. The collaboration between West, Pappalardi, Corky Laing and Steve Knight is on another plane altogether, because they go a long way to keep the old psychedelic flames alive, AND manage to forge a weird sort of new energy that points the way to future endeavors. And no other band in this era of heavy rock even came close to duplicating this feat. "Mississippi Queen" lays down the gauntlet from the jump - a two-and-a-half-minute barrel roll of swampy, heavy blues swagger where everyone in the group is at their best and brightest. Much the same could be said about the rest of the album. "Never in my Life" bowls through your speakers at an unmatched level of energy, for example. But the band is just as adept with softer, more mystical exercises like "Theme From an Imaginary Western" (where they really do completely reimagine an earlier Cream song) and "The Laird", where Felix's vocal hovers somewhere between angelic and the backroom of some seedy opium den. Overall, Climbing should be up there with all the other acknowledged heavy classics of 1970, if not in the Top 3 or 5.

Appropriate title for an album that in a lot of ways, was made 20 years too early, and in others, definitely lives up to its zany standard. The Pink Fairies basically picked up from where the Deviants, a notorious underground psychedelic act in the U.K., left off and made three quizzical records with moderately shifting lineups. For the debut, they were a four-piece, anchored by the double drum attack of John "Twink" Alder and Russell Hunter. More than the last two albums, Never Never Land reflects the psych past that they came out of, and blends it with burgeoning punk and hard rock elements with the same sort of indie sensibility which colleagues Hawkwind were pursuing. And it usually works well. Even when presented with dead ends, the band seems to crank back up again on another groove with no issue. There are some high water-marks, specifically the title-track's inital gentle rhythms which lead into a heavier finishing kick, "Uncle Harry's Last Freak Out" - which by sheer length is meant to be the focal point - and "Teenage Rebel", which appears to draw massive inspiration from Deep Purple's "Speed King". Or how about "War Girl", which is endlessly fascinating on so many levels, and defies description? As stated before, this is a bit stop-and-start in places, but taken on its' own terms, is an album that should be more celebrated than it is now.