The Brian Jonestown Massacre
Spacegirl and Other Favorites

THE REVIEW

1993: only 500 copies of a record/collection that seems to have tried to materialize the sound of Spacemen 3, now adrift in an intangible musical conception that dissolved them not long ago. But the vapor tension remains high. It takes little to penetrate that invisible thickness dividing sound and listener. It's an immersion, then realizing you find yourself chasing a soap bubble in the midst of those feedbacks that continuously hide the truth.

What becomes evident is the intersection between Sonic Youth and an undefined shoegaze, with distinct hints of space rock in this mixture of vague indie-pop, all under the banner of the most expansive neo-psychedelia. These are songs that seem to have been heard millennia ago, as in a dream. Empty rooms, two fingers of dust and an encyclopedic ensemble of sleepless sounds, with intangible textures and fragile melodies: difficult to understand and live simultaneously.

2003: a reissue that adds tracks from old demos. What might seem a futile addition of zeros instead stretches the elastic towards a monumental sonic dispersion and desolation.

All action and no theory.

A work with no form, but infinite substance. A debut made of narcoleptic hallucinations, dispersive in its subtle tangibility that, while inventing nothing, shows a very personal approach in the vortex of the early '90s psychedelic revival. In admitting comparisons, what may remain with a Perfect Prescription is only a relationship of mimicry.