Blue Max - Limited Edition (1976) (2003)

An odd album is Limited Edition, and not just because it's Canuck. Half the time it seems like typically ponderous, pedestrian, Dungeons and Dragons-suffused, blow-dried mid-'70s teenage stoner rock with an almost unfinished, demo-grade, parents'-wreck-room-with-half-a-six-pack sort of vibe. The charisma-less imitation Robert Plant vocals grate, as do the inept come-ons ("Teaser," "The Hooker"), the plethora of jams and long solos, and, oh, the lack of any sort of genuine songwriting. The music mostly chugs along as one continuous, interminable verse without bothering with either choruses or hooks to break up the monotony, let alone a middle eight. The album is oddly unsatisfying, however, not because it is amateurish (though it certainly is that, one of recording's more endearing qualities, actually) and not because it is devoid of musicality; no, it is ultimately disappointing because the trio obviously possessed some talent, even if it was decidedly in its raw stages. (They were, after all, still high schoolers.) But occasionally the trio struck upon a killer riff, a nifty groove (the roiling "Life Long"), or a stretch of instrumental interplay (the acoustic opening and marvelous bass playing of "The New One," probably the LP's most interesting composition), even a piece of a melody here and there that gives one the impression that Limited Edition might eventually find its legs. Unfortunately, it never does, thereby sapping any of the other small pleasures it affords. So in the end, this is wholly inessential stuff, even for collectors. Those who are intrigued enough in obscure Canadian hard rock can track down the Gear Fab CD reissue, which adds two rather more professional-sounding bonus tracks. Sample-harvesters, too, might find it useful.