Like the Wizard’s medicine show balloon rising from the psychedelic landscape of Oz, This is entirely untethered from the music and conventions of this decade. Inhaling heavily from the bong of Magical Mystery Tour and Ziggy Stardust, Mr. Saphin is the latest incarnation of the "Starman", crafting impossibly dense music that shimmers blindingly. And in this era of can’t-sing squawkers armed with a six-string and an attitude, this lush, swirling art-glam is amazingly refreshing. Mr. Saphin and Co. waste no time in seeking the all-seeing third-eye of the keeper of astral wisdom, which means they can rock hard and make a lot of noise without puking all over themselves. It’s as if Julian Cope defected from bleakness and went with the cosmic flow. Mr. Saphin brings a child’s enthusiasm to the studio, bombarding his record with all manner of crazy little effects, some of which are recognizable only after repeated listens. It’s a giddy, over-the-top ride, absolutely preposterous in scope, but never stupid or obnoxious. The funky moments are comparable to Edwyn Collins, as are the arch observations into human nature. Yes, This is super-indulgent, but it has a point-of-view, it’s performed like a bitch on fire and it’s great fun. Got a problem with that?
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