The best burnout of the 20th century would have to come from the '60s wouldn't it? And it would of course have to come from Sly Stone, the number of drugs he used in the recording and production of this album likely being close to the amount of overdubs. This hazy trip into the socio-political mind of America's foremost popular Soul/R&B/Funk group at the time cast an inescapable shadow over the futures of hip-hop and electronic music movements alike. Tape hiss and a mix determined more by mechanical degradations than human ears convey the claustrophobic nature of Sly's creative process as well as his drug-induced paranoia perfectly. Here and there darkly tinged proto-electro-soul pop non sequitors emerge ("Runnin' Away"), freeing the listener enough to breath deep before revisiting one of the Family's anthems through Stone's murky disillusionment ("Thank You For Talking To Me Africa"). This is still avant and lo-fi by today's standards, let alone seethingly cynical and funky.
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