You ever listen to Fuckin' Todd Rundgren? Me either, until a week or two ago. The spitefully in-the-know point to Rundgren as the origin point for basically the whole dumb psych rock revival spectrum, from Whitney to Tame Impala to Mac DeMarco. They're right, but that was '70s Todd. By the '80s, Rundgren was apparently famous enough to be more-or-less creatively liberated, which he took full advantage of to produce several of what must be the highest-budget outsider pop albums ever recorded. From what I've heard, Healing is the most complete, while 1985's A Cappella cannot be challenged for the most ambitious (it's an album in which every instrument is made from processed vocals, and it's insanely good).

There's obviously some quasi-religious themery going on here, which I don't feel too much of a need to pay attention to lyrics-wise. That said, there's something indescribable about the sonics of religious psychedelia, particularly that which comes from the West. Visually and sonically, I can't help but think of The Electric Prunes, purveyors of acid rock that was not only suitable for the church but sounded like it had been recorded in one. Christian religious traditions, as far as I can tell, love the idea of big, flamboyant, unknowable vastness, and the musical translation of that sensibility is never not cool.

There are songs on here that sound positively Dean Blunt-like (Flesh), songs that must surely be a joke but slap anyway (Golden Goose), unabashed arena rock excursions (Shine), and songs that anticipated the whole white dudes doing '90s r'n'b scene of the early 2010s (Tiny Demons). Every Todd Rundgren album that I've read about is reputed to have been recorded in a fit of creativity on this or that drug, and I mostly believe that. Opiate of the masses, etc, etc.

Highlights: Flesh, Golden Goose, Healing, Pt. 1