Breda Reactor

Well, shit. Look at this cover what I did. Go on, look at it. Look at these guys. It's a style graveyard. No wonder the only groupie they could pull between them was elderly Frau Mittengrouperschnellgeschaft [at left - Ed.]. Jazzrock was never the genre for attracting the nubile, pouting lovelies in fuck-me shoes so highly prized by the rock, pop n' roll industry. So here the Softies are in Bremen or somewhere [Breda - Ed.], performing material from their party-pooping albums Third, Fourth, and Fifth. A neat trick, because Fifth wasn't even out yet. I used to turn up at parties with Third. It was all I usually left with, too. I couldn't understand why I wasn't pulling hot chicks with my challengingly speccy musical tastes. Then I learned to pretend to like Motown and got lucky. Unlike the Soft Machine, who never as far as I know played any Jimmy Ruffin hits, and had to suffer the consequences. Still and all, this is a fine set. Just don't play it at parties and you'll be fine.