For real, man, An Albatross is not a gimmick. No, really. Sure, its Philadelphia electro-spazz artists may come at you with serious vibes, man, with peace-and-love unity. They may speak in a '60s lingo completely foreign to untrained (read: un-Timothy-Learyized) ears. And they may or may not spend some time debating the effects of psychoactive substances before unleashing 25 minutes of pure thrash-cum-prog-rock intensity, but listen: Every word, every note, every Marc Bolan-meets-Iggy Pop stage move is absolutely sincere.
What does it matter, anyway? You've got a band that's heavy in the truest sense of the word (heavy like Sab, heavy like Zep), a band that'll rip through 20 songs in as many minutes, a band that'll leave you stunned and speechless and screaming for more, so any question of gimmickry loses its importance within seconds of the first blast. Tune in and drop out, kids; you're in for the ride of your life.
