...th' main reason most cats outside avant circles have even heard o' angus is th'fact that he percussioned with th'nascent velvet underground but had to leave round'bout late 65 cos he deemed they were gettin' too commercial by acceptin' some low paid gig...this allows some insight into his world view, which did not countenance havin' any bread with art, an artist must be pure, not contaminated with such vulgar concepts o' consumerism, that was for bourgeoisie squares, society leaches who know nothin' o' th'pain'n sufferin' th' true artist must endure to enable his craft to evolve...to soar above th' earth, break free o' constriction, reach outward were th'doctrines angus lived by,to float on th'eternal river o' NOW...th'disk in question here has plenty o' bongos'n hand drums beatin' out th' score laid down by th' ancient ones, th' rhythm o' th' planet flowin' through his blood into th'open, caressin' th' skins with power to harness th' universal spirit...there some spooky organ'n flutes'n tambura addin' to th' mix givin' off cool reefer'd vibes, reachin' for th' unobtainable moment, th'comin' together o' dreamtime'n real time, driftin' toward th' dawn o' a new era not yet born...th'main reason for gettin' cosy with this disk is th'near 45 minute work out (dreamweapon benefit) where th' whole thing breaks into a wigged out jazz-jam that has no visible means o' stoppin', th' joint just keeps on rollin',pullin' th' minutes from th' air'n suspendin' their tenure from skyhooks, to stay forever without repeatin'...this is flipped to th' max,a heavy slab o' sandoz groovyness, th' walls will vanish to reveal th' real deal, suitable for all beatnix'n cafe hooligans wherever they may hide...