...nicos first solo offerin' is very much o' its time, bein' a mix-up o' hauntin' folk'n sophisticated lounge with some chamber/light classical pop thrown in, its like th'concert hall meets some tranced out hootenaney on heavy medication, th' styles'n nuances o' style're forever bein' entwined in some new tapestry where familiar patterns're render'd into last week with regulatory precision...each tune is in th'right position on th' disc whether nicos bein' backed by lou/cale or jackson brown, two extremes in singer/songwriter circles, everything is groovin' in an urban fashion, future folk, indeed, a post folk future, 30 years before those sorta post this'n that PR scams/hooks to hang new clothes on, became hot currency...this is th'strange world o' back alley junkys buyin' th' moment with their mind, explodin' on sixth avenue for all th'straights to see'n be envious o',th'world where desperation takes hold'n surrender is th'only exit, th'dice could fall on any number o' options but how to know th'right one, is there a right one, could it ever exist, this is nicos was about this time in th' season that she came to hang out with jim morrison who came to th'conclusion that nico, bein' a singular solitary character, should write her own songs'n create th'art in her own image, which was what came to pass with her next LP(marble index)' stereo is a bit inbalanced which gives an outta-focus kilter laid over th'top, addin extra texture to th' already unsteady landscape o' dreams...this shoulda been on elektra not MGM who did'nt know nothin' about nothin' about any underground musical endeavours, but even elektra wouldn't be able to market nico to th' student bedsitter hippy brigade, her most obvious path if commercialism ever came within her grasps...


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