This is certainly a record that demonstrates what we lose when we move from the physical to the virtual. If ever there was a record to be held, it could very well be this one. It's velvety soft sleeve just cries to be rubbed on your cheek like the end of a dog's ear. And some fools might laugh at the fact that I'm posting a Bee Gees record, but clearly those people are not familiar with their early psych pop brilliance. This is some high caliber orch pop that tops all those lesser heard albums obscurantists pride themselves on knowing. Hey, sometimes shit can be popular and great too. At least that's how it used to be.