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Recorded at the FMP studios and sporting a cover design by his father, one might have been forgiven for expecting guitarist Caspar Brotzmann's first album to owe more to Derek Bailey than to Jimi Hendrix. Instead, Brotzmann fils leads a remarkable power trio that manages to resuscitate all that was good about fuzz-heavy bands like Blue Cheer (without the dross) while adding impassioned playing out of Hendrix and allowing himself an expansive space to develop his unique approach. His music is resolutely dark and feral. The relatively few vocals are muttered or gutturally snarled and are virtually lost beneath the thick and grimy sound onslaught. There's nothing neat and ordered here; everything is spilling wantonly over any structural borders and Brotzmann himself careens wildly over the proceedings forever coming this close to losing control. Frank Neumeier's throbbing, low-pitched drums surge relentlessly, providing a reining tension that's only just able to hold things on track. Though performing in an entirely different milieu, Brotzmann shares at least two features with his illustrious father: a wild and untamed musical imagination and a heroic, almost protean stance, exposing his unbridled self for all to hear. This debut release pointed the way toward even more searing work in later albums like Home, but is a fine document on its own. Recommended for fans, rock and jazz alike, who thought that Hendrix was the last word in rock guitar. ~ Brian Olewnick

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