The title track is a white-trash classic; the rest of this is a mixed grab-bag of homespun storytelling and warm tones that used to feel out of place on a Prine album. Or so I thought.

By this time, bygones were bygones, Corky Laing was back as the drummer of Mountain, who were touring and recorded this one last studio effort with Felix in the group, before he lived out the rest of his days in a weird retirement-limbo which would end in his tragic demise. Additionally, a fellow named David Perry took over the rhythm guitar role, to give more space for the spotlight musicians to flourish elsewhere. Which does take place here - easily this is the most vigorous, yet efficient album since Climbing!, even though it's all basically "Mountain-ized" takes on then-current trends, plus their own familiar material. So, I tend to view Avalanche through a slightly suspicious lens, because their classic days are behind them. Arguably, the best material here consists of moderately radical interpretations of two covers - the opening "Whole Lotta Shakin` Goin` On", and a very slowed-down take on the Rolling Stones "(I Can't Get No) Satisfaction". Both tracks, it goes without saying, are filled to the brim with mastodonic fuzz and brutality, with the latter even sporting the same cowbell pattern as "Mississippi Queen". This is Mountain crunch at its finest, acting as if the calendar was still stuck on 1970. The good thing here is, Felix and Leslie can still cut it on a lighter level, too. "Sister Justice" and "I Love to See you Fly" are Felix's domain, but West brings in the pretty and agile "Alisan" to match up. The surprise here is Felix contributes a few tunes that are out of his normal wheelhouse, like "Swamp Boy" and "Thumbsucker". Both of these are mildly humorous, especially "Thumbsucker", which is distorted in what seems like six different kinds of ways. They also end the album with this "Last of the Sunshine Days" deal which sounds like a goofy update of Cream's "Wrapping Paper". Quite the music-hall exercise and a very odd way to end things...or maybe that was their intent? Overall, likeable but more like a mid-grade rumble compared to the albums from earlier in the decade.

Essentially part 2 of the farewell/send-off when the group broke up the first time, but this one is all the way live. Mountain had the reputation of a massive jam band, and for the most part, this document backs it up, although there are flaws. With only four tracks there is a lot of space to fill and one would think if any band is up to such a challenge, it's this one. And the first three tracks deliver. "Long Red" rings in the happy vibes of Woodstock, then "Waiting to Take you Away" fits more of a classic heavy Mountain pattern. "Crossroader", for me, is the real pick of this one - the brutish, yet mysterious update of Cream's "Crossroads" which the band transforms into a furious mid-tempo workout, completely improved from even the studio version that appeared on Flowers of Evil. Felix's vocal howls from the maelstrom, with a ghastly edge I haven't heard on anything else with the band, ever. The album ends with an epic treatment of "Nantucket Sleighride", which is to be expected, but here is where things become a drag. The midsection and solos are stretched beyond believability, or at least normal common sense - but then again, it was the early 70's, so this kind of tomfoolery was expected from an outfit like Mountain. Not that I'm excusing it or anything. So, the road may have gone on, but for Mountain there was a break as Pappalardi had had enough, and in the meantime West and Laing joined forces with his virtual predecessor (Jack Bruce) for the ill-fated West, Bruce, and Laing project. As far this live album goes, fairly decent stuff.

This album, for some reason, is nominally regarded as one of the weaker efforts of the "classic" Hawkwind years, but I have to go against the grain here, because out of all of those albums, it's the one I have gravitated to the easiest. Of course, that does not mean it is the best album of the lot, and certainly, there are flaws to be found here - the biggest one being that they tried to fit Michael Moorcock's Eternal Champion saga into the record - in the form of three really flimsy spoken-word *ahem* performances, and it's a pretty bad fit, to say the least. Since I do not read sci-fi literature as a general rule I couldn't give a rat's ass about this aspect of the record anyway. I focus mainly on the music, which by the way, is a bit of a change from classic Hawkwind that preceded it as well - more and more synths are in the mix here, burying the heavy guitars and bass grooves. The immediate reaction would be - what the hell happened to the Hawkwind we knew and dug - but wait, there's merit here in this approach. From a technical perspective the hairy horde steps up big time, creating a different, limbo-like atmosphere that is curiously part-futuristic, part-retro, and totally all-Hawkwind throughout. Every single one of these tracks is epic to the max - excepting the spoken-word passages - as they succinctly sum up the album title to a tee.

A decent, yet misguided attempt at carrying on the Foghat name Next up in the seemingly never-ending Foghat saga - which is still ongoing to this very day - is this album, which not even the sad passing of Lonesome Dave Peverett from cancer, could delay. By this time, Rod Price had left the band, for the second and final time. Their replacements were clearly nods to the nostalgia for arena rock in the 70's - for Lonesome Dave, there was Charlie Huhn, most known for his stint with Ted Nugent in the late 70's and early 80's. And for Price, it was Bryan Bassett, who played guitar for disco one-hit Wild Cherry, and later on in a dueling version of Foghat with Lonesome Dave in the early 90's, before the reunion album of '94. The combination of these guys, with Earl and Stevens, as you might imagine, is more low-brow than the original item. Huhn's vocals range from a generic take on Lonesome's Dave honest man theatrics to a karaoke-ish imitation of Brian Johnson from AC/DC, and the material is about in the same ballpark as well. "She loves my mumbo jumbo" is the tone setter here, and despite the lack of creativity, there is more than infectious enough energy to drive the point home. It's just that the personality, class, and craftsmanship is sorely missing from the Huhn-Bassett team, and there is subject matter here which a guy like Peverett would definitely stay away from, or at least rephrase in a better fashion ("Sex with my Ex" is especially ridiculous).