i remember picking this disc up in the summer of '97 on a rec from the store clerk at the local disc-go-round and listening to it on the bus quite a bit for the next few months. i was familiar with smg, but wouldn't have at all called myself a fan. i think the accusations of his work up to this point being derivative are fairly accurate, but even that isn't so much of a drawback as the fact that it's all fairly bland. the high points are due to collaborations with dwayne goettel (night returning) and solidly written cover material (strange days). it just doesn't stand out as worthwhile.
but, the guy at the counter was insistent.
"i see what you come in here and buy", he said. "this is way better than anything else he's ever done, and i think you'll like it for sure. it should be called chris randall and the die warzau backing band. and it's got reeves gabrels on it.".
it was the gabrels drop that hooked me. really.
and, i must say that this record really was a huge leap forwards in terms of songwriting and instrumentation. he's finally using the supporting cast of chicago musicians and engineers around him to their full potential, and manages to combine the city's various sounds into what is arguably a lost psychedelic pop classic. but, it's also the kind of disc that alienates people because it's too good. in the end, it's a shame that it's really the only solid disc he ever made, because you can hear the potential here. sadly, this is an often-told story in the modern era: the problem of making a record that is too good and can't move units, which leads to getting dropped.
the whole record was an influence on me over this period, but it's usually subtle and lost amidst the bowie and the reznor. i'm picking out this track today because there's a part about 3:53 where a blast of noise segues the track. it's a technique ultimately traced back to haus der luge. but, the way it's used here is not just completely unpredictable but also completely irrational and i took some influence from the absurdity of it.
