I'm probably preaching to the converted, for who else would look at this review? I suspect Mr Brown is better known for his writing for other people, notably Cream; but I find this far more enjoyable than them, nothing like in fact. So here it is, as far as I can see a complete collection of Pete Brown and Piblokto! An unbelievably fine feast, but what the hell is it? Well I'm afraid I would call it Prog. Rock, though it came out years before Prog. Rock was invented. Or would you call it jazz/blues/rock fusion? From the very honest sleeve notes it would appear that his colleagues have called Mr Brown a number of choice things. He sings like a frog, or an old crow, but it suits the songs. Lively and unexpected arrangements, mostly around organ and guitar, with flashes of incandescent percussion. Gothic and nasty, irreverent and romantic. Crisp and clear, raw in content, but very well produced. No dinosaurs here, unless they have been cut up into chunky steaks and served rare with exotic booze. 'Firesong' is my favourite, vocals to a Celtic harmonium, followed by saxophone blues/jazz. But what is it all about? 'Oh kiss her, though you're angry when she smokes in your bed'? Culminating in Hecate and incinerated airmen, or something like that. (I'm sure I've got the wrong end of the stick, but these lyrics are not provided). He has a preoccupation with fallen airmen that the notes don't explain. Or how about, 'Now's the time for living life backwards, see things better from upside down.' Those are what I call lyrics mate! This lot should have been huge, but I suspect they opted for happiness instead, working from behind the scenes. He talks about his disillusion with the music business in 'Thousands on a Raft', to a romantic tune. These are all time favourites that I feared were long lost. Is there any more? What is he doing now? (I guess I'll just have to buy some to find out). I think they are rather like Van der Graaf Generator, but without the funny noises, just excellent musicianship, and not a hint of gloom. My thoughts belong to me, but Pete Brown and Piblokto! Belong to the world. Go on, buy it.