Andre is probably going to kill me for this one, but Jim Sullivan's mega-moustache masterpiece UFO isn't the pinacle of greatness we might have thought it was.
Yes I know, it's got all the right moves. It's got unnecessary flute solos. It's got cryptic lyrics about getting abducted by aliens. It's even got some of the slinkiest, most van-worthy basslines this side of 1978. But does that really make an album good?
No. It makes an album GREAT...but only to those who are willing to indulge in the most lava lamp soaked of fantasies.
UFO is the 70's distilled down to it's very essence. It reaks of velvet paintings, unicorn adorned vans, bellbottoms and bongwater. It revels in it's excesses as much as it tries to use them to serious effect. And therein lies the problem.
Lot's of people had lots of great ideas back then, but very few people had a filter, and Jim Sullivan was no exception. It's as if every groovy idea that Sullivan could possibly think of got packed into this record. So much so that you could say that it could be considered the ultimate example of what a best worst album can be.
So break out the tapestries and fire up the Nag Champa, because Jim Sullivan wants to take you on a wild ride on his impossibly groovy UFO. Dig it.