One
very irritating pop song is ‘Crimson and Clover’. Over and over this moronic
psychedelia, with its repetitious tremolo, repeats in the mind until all you
want is to jump from Ken Kesey’s bus. You find yourself ‘In the Court of the
Crimson King’. Is this any better? Rarely has there been a more bombastic
august overblown full-length account of going somewhere unreal. Along the dial
Donald Fagen sings “They call Alabama the Crimson Tide,” as though his life
depends on it. It’s all over, red rover, as Steely Dan tracks with clinical eye
the end of the crimson trip.
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