Burger Records popped this time-traveling portal into my mail box last week. As I grasped the outer sleeve, I was brought back to 1969. Best of all, I did not have crabs (something often left out of biographies of yours truly). As I walk down Haight Ashbury, I recognize the distinct smell of weed in the air, but the piss poor stuff hippies smoked in those days. “Get a job!” I yell to a drum circle, but recall that I too am lacking in employment. A group of asshole cops assume I must be some insane person for dressing as I do, and beat the shit out of me. The 1960s isn’t as fun as I remember. I realized I had best find a record player and play this new Sufis record to see if there is a way to return to the present.
Robert Crumb is out complaining about beatniks or something, so he lets me hang out and use his turntable. As soon as I drop the needle, I know that the Sufis have come into their own, just not in the right time period. The best of the Animals/Kinks psychedelic periods are displayed in full competency. If these kids had happened to been born into this time period, they would be one of those groups Baby Boomers always bring up when reminding younger generations of their age delimited inadequacies.
As I reach the last track on the album, a purple haze engulfs me, and returns me to my dingy apartment circa 2013. All that time travel, and I didn’t even get a shot at Audrey Hepburn. Damn.
A great, highly competent record on all counts. They should be big, but they won’t be. I would like to see them break out of their self-imposed stylistic parameters on future releases, but this will be my tool to return to 1969 whenever I feel the need.
Buy it here: