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.

Wizzard was both Roy Wood's musicial outlet and eccentric answer to his departure from the project he started with Jeff Lynne, Electric Light Orchestra. An album and a couple of songs into that project, something was not working, because he walked out and formed a separate band with different musicians, many of whom he knew from ELO or The Move (like Rick Price). Wizzard was essentially a more radical take on the ELO concept, expanding on Wood's glam look, the number of band members, and the varying nature of sound, as the singles were artsy but more mainstream, while the album material was far more experimental. Which leads us to Wizzard Brew. Compared to Wood's solo effort Boulders, which was a whimsical delight, Wizzard Brew is the orchestral equivalent of industrial anvils clanging in a smoky factory for four months straight. Roy screams "you can dance YOUR rock and roll" with all the contempt of a scorned artist whose had enough of the audience (or colleagues) who will never fully get his art, over a destructive background of stumbling cowbell-tinged drums and a bank of horns, saxes, and strings wanting to squelch the life out of the listener's ears. It goes on from there in much the same fashion - 13-plus minutes or so, through a multitude of passages, on the epic "Meet Me at the Jailhouse" - which, depending on your point of view, could be seen as Roy's magnum opus...or his gigantic misfire. Throw in some traditional music-hall on a couple more tracks, a diving, twisting medley-style tour of the States ("Buffalo Station/Get on Down to Memphis"), and a thought-provoking ballad ("Wear a Fast Gun"), and this brew is boiling over in more ways than one. It may too much for some to bear, but fans and those with adventurous tastes will appreciate this effort.

The last two Move albums were essentially collaborations between Roy Wood and Jeff Lynne for the sole purpose of transitioning to Electric Light Orchestra. Of the two, Looking On was definitely a heavier-sounding, larger-in-scope document, with many of the tracks having multiple sections, lengthier run-times, and odd twists and turns. The most notable track is the progressive-soul exercise "Feel Too Good", with its funky breaks and seemingly never-ending coda that both Lynne and Wood trade solos off of - not to mention Lynne plays drums here as well. The whole affair has a bit of a show-off feel, and quite a few of these tracks tend to wallow in sheer self-indulgence. But with guys like Wood and Lynne behind the boards, the many moments that leave you awe-struck more than make up for it ("What", "Open Up The World Said The Door").

Al Jourgensen's much-maligned follow-up to Psalm 69 in the mid-90's, which I thought this was an improvement at the time, against the prevailing tide of negativity. Basically, Al and the band tired of the reliance on samples and the hyper-thrash approach and were looking for something more organic. They also were in quite the depressed state of mind. So, the tempos are slower, even borderline majestic, or downright doom-like at points. The compelling title track is indicative of the tone of music Al had in mind for this one. Deep, throbbing bass and gargantuan drumming anchors the affair, moving the thing along at a mastodon pace, while Al throws on some disconcerting "where have I been" lyrics and echoey harmonica passages. Elsewhere, the cover of Dylan's "Lay Lady Lay" reflects a lot of the themes that are woven into the album itself, and sounds totally distinct from the original tune. A severely overlooked album in need of serious critical revision.

The follow-up was held back for some time in many countries, presumably timed to coincide with a then-burgeoning Men at Work craze which was sweeping the world. That’s right – I said it – Men at Work craze. Honestly, I can’t think of a precedent for these guys in pop music history. They did everything wrong when it comes to achieving stardom. The incubation period for them was very minimal, achieving stardom in a matter of months, staying at the top for a short period of time, then after a short break, watching it all crumble in a matter of another period of a few months…and it was like they were never in the pop microscope in the first place. Listening to Cargo, some of the signs probably were apparent, although hindsight is 20/20. But generally, Cargo is a lesser animal – it’s paranoid, rushed, herky-jerky, and feels like a watered-down take on the measured madness that was the debut – again, presumably to capitalize on the ongoing craze in the air. The strange thing is, the cover goes out of its way to convey the exact opposite – that it is “business as usual”, indeed. And well, there are some indicators of wildness to be found – the lead single, for one, a tongue-in-cheek take on the old Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde tale, here titled “Dr. Heckyll and Mr. Jive” – which comes off like their speeded-up version of a WAR track, replete with sound effects showing off the good doctor’s transformations. But more celebrated (and borderline timeless) is “Overkill”, a quiet, chugging, little paranoid rocker which is definitively put over by Ham’s sax lines. Sure, we could say this is “Who Can It Be Now” part 2, 3, or 15, but what difference does it make when the band makes it sound so relevant and classy at the same time? Elsewhere, they dipped their toes in the political arena, commenting on the Cold War with the hilarious “It’s a Mistake”, where they pose themselves – and the rest of the world – as dubious victims while bloodthirsty generals and power-mad politicians fight for world control at the push of the shiny red button. The rest of the album has mixed results. “High Wire” contends in the political forum as well, but it’s hard for it to get noticed with the grand joke of “Mistake” hovering close by. “I Like To” was written by guitarist Ron Strykert, and he seems to emulating “Helpless Automation” from the previous album, just in a more progressive, yet confusing manner. The other tracks which Strykert writes, or has a hand in writing, are not the best – “Settle Down My Boy” is sheer pop banality, while “Upstairs in my House” is nothing too impressive, either. The ending tracks on both sides (“No Sign of Yesterday”, “No Restrictions” – ironic that they both start with the word “no”) are OK, just interesting that they both fit that paranoid mold to a tee, especially the latter song, which appears to be able the downfalls of way too much fame all at once. Overall, a fairly serious down grade from the debut, although there is enough here to rate this as something worth your time to check out.