Sounding not unlike some long-lost Primus cut with Hendrix sitting in on guitar, this crunching earthquake of a song does as good a job as any of conveying the all-out garage attack on the blues which was at the crux of the Groundhogs’ argument against pop music: ugly, atonal, grimy, freaky, and yet still entirely danceable and somehow catchy, a heady stew of sharp British wit & acid-headed bluesy rock which, if you haven’t yet been acquainted with them, you need be prepared to go out and buy the whole damn album. They ran in the same free-concert circles as Hawkwind & the Edgar Broughton Band, but were far more traditional in many ways than either of those bands; that being said, there is nothing orthodox about their music. Frenetic and passionate, the vocals of guitarist & singer Tony McPhee easily stand up to the sonic assault backing him as he recounts the tale of a man who is homeless by choice, “…the people think I'm crazy, but I know I'm wiser than all the sages, 'cause I have money they think that I'm a fool for doing what I do, but I know it's right; call me an eccentric man, I don’t believe I am…”
