"This former Bookforum editor openly identifies with this most apocalyptic of 60s El Lay albums, but he keeps his head in the game, fearlessly splashing around in lead Love-r Arthur Lee's disturbed psyche. He's sharp on the lyrics (maybe too sharp, given Lee's confused state) and slightly less so on the music, but he's killer on context: the album's fear, its overwhelming strangeness, its death-drive in a culture that only Lee knew was suffused with it. A-" Austin American-Statesman, 10/17/04