Alexander Spence
Oar
One bad LSD-trip (with attempted axe-murders to boot) and a six-month-stint at Bellevue birthed this album. That also makes it another in a long line of "he must be a genius cause he's been insane"-albums, but sadly, he's just insane.
Cause it shows that it isn't a man of sound body and mind who've created it. Neither the voice nor the handling of the instruments are what you'd expect from a man previously involved in Jefferson Airplane and Moby Grape.
Due to his obvious frailty (diagnosed schizophrenia) I won't write more about his lack of prowess, but instead I'd like to address the Nashville studio: Why? Here you've got a man obviously unhinged and you decide it's a good idea to let him into your studio, creating what he believes is his magnum opus?
It would have been different if he'd excelled within his limitations, but this is just sad.
