CACTUS — ATCO SD 33-340

Now here’s the kind of album I like to see.

Offkey, out of time, clattering, speeded, clumsy — how can you fault music like that? The instant I heard it I got up and danced a jig.

Cactus is a real wind-up band. No matter how you cut ’em, they can’t lose, because nothing much was ventured in the first place. The formula, see, is take two homeless cats scuffling under the stigma of three years in Vanilla Fudge, bring them in off the street with a guaranteed gig, then find a couple of cats wandering around the Detroit scene, alumni of various bands there. Okay, we gotta group, and even a bonus tinge of the “supergroup” talisman, the hardest part’s over. What about material?

“Uh, how would you boys describe your style? Folk-rock? Acid-rock? Rocknroll Revival... or... ?”

“Man, we play the BLUES, ’cuz that’s where our heads are at, y’know, and ’cuz da BLUES really gets it on, an’ deals with reality, like, uh, drinkin’ muddy water & sleepin’ in a hollow log... However, we’re also gonna evolve, ain’t never gon’ stand still — the BLUES can lead to other things...”