Spiked

Since not going to see Julian Cope a couple of weeks ago I pulled out his recent compilation album Trip Advizer, a sixteen track cd that rounds up the best of his work from 1999- 2015. If you only get one Julian Cope cd from this millennium etc. Also, Trip Advizer is the best name for a Cope cd (and strangely when listening to it I can kind of hear parallels with Half Man Half Biscuit- the wordplay, the music, the playing it straight). Anyhow, I don't always agree with the archdrude but I always enjoy him and his songs, and it may be the case that Trip Advizer works best as a dipper (play a few songs from it every now and then rather than an eighty minute one sitting album), but every song on it is a good one. They Were All On Hard Drugs is my favourite, a sweetly sung ode to ancient civilisations and their psychedelic drug practices with a Casio keyboard hissing away underneath but I've posted that before. In Psychedelic Revolution Julian promises to settle some scores tonight and then sings about spiking a range of targets- fat cats, greed-heads, moneybags, fuckers generally.

Psychedelic Revolution