This must have caught a lot of record buyers on the back foot. Lookit that schmuck on the album cover, with that name {Tim} {Buckley}, you're expecting some real Paul Simon / James Taylor, let me croon to you from across your coffee kinda scene.
What you get is a nightmare of wailing, keening free-jazz hard freak-folk neverending implosion, Buckely's voice yowling and careening though a night-black void while a band of zombie geniuses flails at their instruments with uncanny restraint. To call it unpleasant is an understatement.
Damn, I do admire it somehow. And damn it is it a hell of a trip to listen to, legitimately mind-changing in its violent disregard for structure and sense. I highly recommend that you listen to this once.
Though, when it was over I did say out loud "Wow, that sucked."
2.5/5
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