In a more than a respectable year for old-schoolish psych-doom of Ouija-board proclivity (see also Blood Ceremony, Purson, Hexvessel), mysterious Britisher Uncle Acid and his shape-shifting Deadbeats fully consummate their malevolent marriage of '70s sludge'n'trudge to '60s Merseybeat. Judging by the good uncle's forbiddingly seductive words, they do it by kidnapping then brainwashing you in a demonic cult compound down some desert road on the other side of the album cover's snowcapped mountain. Or something. The black-light-poster fuzz riffs would not shame Tony Iommi or Buck Dharma, the harmonies are in the lineage of whatever Blue Öyster Cult's Agents of Fortune stole from the Beatles, the sitar-ish carnival raga "Follow the Leader" has plenty of George Harrison drone too, and "Poison Apple" is as bad-trip catchy as the spider crawling through your brain it sings about. Roky Erickson would understand. And if titles like "Evil Love" and "Death Valley Blues" and the ending of "Valley of the Dolls" flash you back to Sonic Youth's Symbionese Liberation Army period, that can't be bad either. C.E.