As transcribed from the damp liner notes scrawled on a VHS rental receipt for Sorceress II: The Temptress.
"Variations on a Theme of the Breeze" – Family
They open the tape like a scratched reel of prog-gospel noir—gargling saxophone and Hammond organ as if God hired a bar band for Judgment Day. I hear dust, desperation, and the crumbling bones of British Empire in the grooves. It’s theatrical, but not in a leotard way—more like a taxidermy exhibit set to music.
"Back to Philadelphia/The Race" – Ford Theatre
Psychedelic civic collapse! Ford Theatre builds a freeway to nowhere and films the crash in glorious black-and-white psychorama. You hear every sweat-drenched handshake of a Nixon-era backroom deal and the ghost of forgotten AM radio dramas choking on smog. Bonus points for the bassline, which sounds like a typewriter having a nervous breakdown.
"Too Far Gone" – Coney Hatch
Canadian hard rock like a bootleg Camaro manual. Anthemic with oil-stained teeth. This song blasts through the speakers like a burnt hockey puck dipped in WD-40, tossed into a jukebox. It thinks it’s arena-ready—but it’s really for guys who drink Molson alone at a strip club that only plays Lou Gramm solo tracks.
"Transparent Man" – Chris Robison
Power pop with existential crisis in its lunchbox. If Todd Rundgren had a bad acid trip at a Chuck E. Cheese, this would play on the skee-ball soundtrack. One of those mirrorball-in-a-bathtub songs. Beautiful, cracked, and covered in discount glitter.
"World’s End" – Out of Focus
A German band named like a 2AM philosophy major's term paper. It’s jazz-rock, sure—but also a sermon delivered by an animatronic preacher short-circuiting during a blackout. There’s apocalypse in the reverb, and maybe—just maybe—a cartoon duck playing flute in the background. A perfect song for wandering Berlin in a lead vest.
"Give It Up or Turnit a Loose" – Black Randy & the Metrosquad
Punk-funk for people who smell like canned smoke and stolen phone booths. Black Randy doesn't sing—he declares bankruptcy into the mic. This track is like finding James Brown in a dumpster behind the Viper Room, clutching a synthesizer full of cigarette butts.
"Charly the Kid" – Tangerine Dream
Pure synth-baked cinematic grease. From Firestarter—a soundtrack that feels like it’s peering into your soul and typing out your dreams in binary code. Tangerine Dream doesn't write songs—they encode neon trauma into waveform. Charly is a tragic arcade cabinet lost in time.
"I'll Set You On Fire" – Moxy
Moxy is what happens when you spill Mountain Dew on your BTO record and it grows sentient. This song is pure barn-burning biker rock, the kind of track that plays during a chase scene between a 1972 Dodge Dart and an unpaid bar tab. Flame decals for the ears.
Recommended? Yes, but only if you're willing to eat your feelings in the form of magnetic tape.
Buzz Drainpipe
Senior Critic, VHS Graveyard Quarterly
“Everything I hear is a ghost. Some of them just scream louder.”
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