Our second weirdest review to date.
After the mind-altering haze that was Trudy and the Romance, Peter Doherty swore off drugs and threw the rest of his stash away. By some bizarre circumstance best left unrevealed for the sake of semi-coherent storytelling, the countless quantities fell into the hands of Magic Potion – who, for the sake of comparison, is the pseudonym of a very young Graham Coxon.
A moderate dose of LSD later and here we are, with Coxon slumping through what is to become Jelly unfolding before us. The familiar acid-coated looseness of guitars open the track, with vocals that can barely conceal the haziness. Lyrics of climbing “the jelly mountain” carelessly tumble from detached lips, as the young Coxon narrowly manages to maintain his trademark guitar style.
Though, eventually the full dosage hits and Coxon is confronted with the power of the drugs. As a result, the music begins to slowly melt for a climactic descent into an acid-kissed, spaced-out glide back to normality. Or, as normal as an acid trip can get. Coxon, now on the up, brings things to a gentle close – collapsing into the abyss of hyperbole ending.