A collaboration recorded five years ago but only very recently prepared for release, between the profoundly underground artists Dog Hallucination, a duo from Illinois, and Bob (just “Bob”), formerly of Headless Ballerinas Underwater. A four-track, twenty-three minute psychonautic journey through an altered state (“toot! toot!” goes the train whistle), its scenery absorbed by gazing through warped, stain-glass windows.
Bob Hallucination covers a lot of ground in very little time, yet never sounds rushed – it has been recorded with crystal clarity and every guitar note, beat and bloop glistens and resonates. After a propulsive jump start, the third track floats in misty pastel colours over a pastoral landscape. The fourth track – all tracks are merely numbered – has endless textural depth and an almost orchestra grandiosity, which, like most of the movements on Bob Hallucination, quickly dissapates and morphs into something else altogether. Though in this case the theme reiterates itself one last time, its beats greasier than the first time round.
That is the unique strength of this obscure little record – rarely are so many ideas packed into such a small space without crowding each other. Here, they dovetail into one another with perfect logic unity. If hallucinatory, it is a very lucid dream.