The second Barnstorm/Walsh record strikes a more celebratory tone overall, but compared to the debut record it's the less challenging of the two. It also served as the commercial breakthrough as well, with the leadoff "Rocky Mountain Way" getting the lion's share of the notoriety and attention. For years to come, it would also pigeonhole the album into a classic rock, guitar-hero, gear-and-pot-head dated limbo, but that's OK, because it is also extremely comfortable in its' own skin. But not all of the music is in the same vein as "Rocky Mountain Way" - not by a long shot. Like the previous album, Barnstorm sees fit to range 'round confidently over of the course of the remaining eight tracks. However, the experience does not go down as smoothly as the first album did, either. "Midnight Moodies" is an instrumental that is just as inscrutable as "Giant Bohemoth". "Wolf" is layers and layers of gorgeous, haunting sound. But then, there is "Happy Ways", which is a little too lightweight. While much of the material sounds great and creative, tracks like "Meadows", "Dreams", and "Days (Go By)" come off as intentionally marked to build from innocuously quiet to epic. They seem a bit too contrived to be believed. Despite this, The Smoker You Get, The Player You Get is quite an entertaining listen, and necessary companion piece to hear after the debut Barnstorm record.

The year after Joe Walsh left the James Gang he moved to Colorado, formed a new band with some old friends (which was called Barnstorm), and proceed to release a slew of albums which pursed the artistic directions that the James Gang hinted at, but could never fully explore. They are usually pigeon-holed into the "dust-bin of dirty, repetitive classic rock" - mainly because "Rocky Mountain Way", which led off the second album in this run, and became a hit - is the track which received the most notoriety from this period, but truth be told, Walsh and Barnstorm do not get enough credit for the dedication and craftsmanship they put into these records. They are also usually thought of as pure Walsh solo efforts, but here again, the real story is more complicated. Barnstorm was in fact a solid band with just about equal contributions from Walsh, Joe Vitale (main gig: drummer), and Kenny Passarelli (main gig: bass guitar). Walsh was the front-man, lead vocalist, and guitar-hero, but all three were everywhere playing multiple instruments and making different contributions, along with a small host of session musicians. Listening to this and the subsequent Barnstorm releases, and it is immediately obvious, that Passarelli and Vitale are a serious upgrade over Jim Fox and Dale Peters, if only for the fact that now Walsh has people around who can help him elevate the sound and actually fulfill his and their ambitions. Barnstorm isn't really a concept album, but it feels like one, and the general message is - we're going West, expanding our horizons, playing with all of this space, and making the move the overarching story. And why not - isn't that a classic story in American folklore, anyway? The opener "Here We Go" is a slow-building, enveloping, early-morning awakening piece that is drenched in evocative synthesizer tones. It kicks off a first side of the album which is far more on the contemplative side of the fence. The twin centerpieces are a rather cinematic, documentary-type of instrumental called "Giant Bohemoth", followed by "Mother Says", another slow-rolling and developing avalanche of snow which gloriously erupts towards the end of its' run-time, cumulating a near-perfect side of music. The second side is a slight letdown from the strange, yet oddly enchanting mood which the first side established, although still holds interest. Second from last is the only true rocker on this collection, "Turn to Stone", but that is pushing things, and anyway, the real attraction here is how the band makes that riff sound lonelier and lonelier each time they play it, until it feels like it echoes through some long lost canyon. Beyond the fact that there are some really good songs here, where Barnstorm wins you over is in the atmosphere department, which borders on the indescribable at many intervals here. Which makes sense, because there isn't really a lot of songs here to speak of, either, and the emphasis is on atmosphere. The next album would take a bit of a different tact.

Compared to their predecessors - you know, the guys they want to emulate, then presumably eclipse (Cream) - the overall sound is bottom-heavy, dependent from the start on Mel Schacher's "lead bass" and Don Brewer's brawny drum kit, while Mark Farner's guitar is notoriously thin and reedy for a power trio. Songwriting wise, it's all credited to Farner, but you have to wonder how much hinged on manager Terry Knight as well, although he never took public credit, just in the monetary sense. What's interesting here is there is no real funk to speak of - unless the production and instrumental tone counts - and no R&B for that matter, just one gut-bucket rocker and/or power-ballad-ish exercise after another. The only place where the guys really go overboard is - where else - "T.N.U.C.", where Schacher's awesome high-level, frantic bass groove is quite danceable, and then gives way to an extended Brewer drum solo. Most of the time they want to fire their jam guns, but are restrained to 1-2 minutes of craziness at most, like on "Heartbreaker". Knight actually had these guys looking for hit singles, if you can believe it, with "Time Machine" and "High on a Horse", which are OK tracks, but Cream never cared about singles, so why should Grand Funk Railroad? Something about this doesn't quite gel - not even the album title, which presents the band as fresh new blood, but instead, you get the feeling everyone involved knows this is half-speed all the way around. I'm not even sure this is necessary for the progression, but in the very least, you do get to hear the genesis of this whole, crazy GFR thing.

The oddly titled Hit to Death in the Future Head goes a long way in completing the transitional process from confused ramshackle go-nowhere noisemaker hippies to the laser-focused Neo-psychedelic machine of the mid 90's, but it’s not quite there yet. There are still the occasional experimental goofs to be found – well, just one huge one that is hard to ignore at the end of the disc. The first half of the disc hazes back and forth between punkish, neo-psych headbangers like “Forever”, “Hit Me like you Did the First Time” (which sounds like Bee Gees mixed with Sonic Youth), and “Ginger Ale Afternoon”, and throbbing trippy ballads like “The Sun” and “Felt Good to Burn”. However, I do find the second half of the disc more compelling, thanks to one track in particular – “Halloween on the Barbary Coast”, which is a complete precursor of the stuff for the upcoming Transmissions of the Satellite Heart. Furthermore, the opening guitar riff is like a joke take on Led Zep’s “Kashmir”, so there is that for entertainment value. Despite the increase in levity, I also sense tension building in the otherwise hilarious “Frogs”, which for me is the other standout on the second side of the disc. “I’m waiting for the frogs to fall, down on me” – I am guessing this is meant to be a humorous lyric, but possibly there is a bit of dark humor hidden in here. Of course, the downfall of the second half of the disc is the last track, the infamous “Noise Loop”. The decision to put this on here is inexcusable. Without it you have a very good 40-minute CD, but with it now it is near 70 minutes long and not necessary. The only reason it could be there is to mess with people who are high on something and forgot to change to another CD. For me, this is the false start before the group really got things moving in earnest on the next two albums. I used to own the next CD but LOST IT SOMEHOW – it was easily a long time favorite – but I do have Clouds Taste Metallic which I think is good in its own right.

This was their third disc and it should be mentioned the CD version was a moderately different re-package from the original vinyl, which was much shorter. Apparently, Telepathic Surgery was supposed to be the sound collage which eventually became “Hell’s Angels Cracker Factory” – although something tells me “U.F.O Story” could have been part of that as well – but that was not sufficient for the record company, so instead, other material was used. The CD version includes both, of course, making this a long haul to get through. Many of the elements which are on the ‘Lips classic early to mid-90’s works are actually present on this album, but in a lower-budget format. Wayne Coyne handles all of the guitar tracks, as well as the vocals, which is a different tack than later efforts when he usually had a second guitarist to handle all their crazy tangents. If you factor in the loads of sound effects used throughout the CD there is a lot to process. I feel like there is often too much to process, and beyond that, the overall mood of the disc is darker than later efforts. Especially when you get to the midsection of it, where you really get the effect of feeling hazy, and not in a good way. Building on the above point, the whole thing appears to be structured like one messy, trailer-trashy, speed-induced acid-trip gone wrong, with all of the weird fade-ins and fade-outs and other random noises. Even Wayne’s vocals at this time match up with this take – he’s not the airy, high-pitched, starry-eyed singer of later albums crooning about jelly and man with headaches saving the world. He’s hoarse and borderline barking his lines at the listener. It all makes for quite the eerie experience which is interesting – at least compared to later efforts – but I do not care to come back to it too often, out of personal preference. I guess it depends on your level of fandom, but even a fan would have to admit that they are still working things out at this stage.