THE LOVE MACHINE: Music To Blow Your Mind By

There are two things that are certain to get you ridiculed if you buy them at the supermarket- shoes and records. Remember when at the checkouts you could buy cheap records (cheap in both senses of the word) featuring artists you've never heard of (nor will again)? I cannot account for the origin of this album, but I suspect it is of that ilk. One day I went online and did a Google search for "The Love Machine Electronic Music To Blow Your Mind", and all I found was some guy selling this LP for 25 bones (US!). Ah, how times change...

It was one sorry day to be alive in 1987. One Sunday I bought a handful of albums at a flea market for 25 cents each. Then I came home and got shit because I forgot to put my latest two-week statement of earnings in the mail to the people at the unemployment office. I had been laid off for three months and was not only getting cabin fever, but also I was always being asked, "What are you gonna do with your life?"- a question I was already asking myself more often, anyway.

So anyway, I hopped on my ten-speed and looked for a convenience store that had stamps to sell so I could mail this thing. Having done my good deed for the day, and having the house to myself for the rest of the day because my mother was at work, I decided to have a listen to my recent acquisitions. Well can you imagine my dismay when I opened up the K-Tel compilation "Disco Fever"? I picked this up because Meco's version of "Star Wars" was on it. To my rude surprise, this compilation was a double album, and one of the records was missing. Guess which one? Shaking my head, I pulled out the vinyl to this strange band called The Love Machine. Pretty cool cover, too. All psychedelic swirls with some cartoon of some guy's head with round glasses and a big moustache. Was this cover illustration made with "Yellow Submarine" in mind? Who knows? Anyhow, I was just getting into Tangerine Dream at the time, and so the title "Electronic Music To Blow Your Mind By" was an instant enticement to me. Well, my frown hit the floor upon hearing the infantile, paper-thin wankery on this album. Imagine someone rocking out on that tinny organ they play at a hockey game. No more. I resigned from listening to any more of my fool's gold, so I grabbed a beer and sat down to watch "Abbott and Costello Meet The Killer Boris Karloff", which I taped off The Cat's Pajamas the week before.

13 years and six changes of address later, I dig this thing out of the closet. It still has the red sticker that someone wrote "25 c" onto. Because my friends and I were still basking in the revival of the lounge lizard nostalgia, and because I had one too many shots of Southern Comfort one Saturday afternoon, I decided to treat my ears to another listen of this truffle. And you know? It actually improved with age. The bass lines sounded thicker- there are some cool grooves... it actually felt like there was an actual band on this album! Just like those cheap, flat blue running shoes you used to be able to buy at the supermarket- the ones I always got picked on for wearing in Grade 7; in the early 90's during everyone's 70's schlock nostalgia kick, they came back in style! I noticed the lead singer of Dr. Pop and the Noise wearing them during The Beaches Jazz Festival. Who knew? Just like this album. In 1987, I would never have imagined that this substitute for a frisbee would suddenly be retro chic.

Tightwad rating: **1/2 /5

Happy record hunting!

Love,

The Doctor