Nothing about this album makes any sense! The cover says “Purple Wizard” in a manner that conjures Black Sabbath, but the inlay is a collection of Fischerspooner-esque pics of the members in the inferred buff. (Only one of them is actually naked, from what the eye can see; the rest are darkly lit with very tight costuming.)
When you remove the CD from the case, there is a photo beneath that depicts a tattoo that some poor soul got presumably while on a bender in Wales: A poorly drawn wizard in a purple cape holding a smoking skull in one hand and giving up the devil horns.
Then, there is the music. It’s a Beatles-era Brit-pop, girl-fronted explosion of soul-rock Shangri-la! What?! Yes, that’s correct.
Once we’ve unwrapped this seeming white elephant, we find an entire LP of mildly unimpressive new oldies that all sound remotely the same. Every concept was done once before in the 50’s and 60’s.
It seems that Purple Wizard is a live band who didn’t need to put out an LP at all. If you want to have a sock-hop, here’s the band you’ll want to hire.
