drifting, bumming change outside the clubs he once ruled, and into his present troubles, serving a twelve-year prison sentence for firing a gun in the air, a sorry victim of California's three strikes laws. On
Forever Changes, Lee wrote and sang some of the most luscious melodies this side of the vintage Bee Gees -- check out "Andmoreagain" -- butted against apocalyptic visions of what lay beyond the Summer of Love, as on "The Red Telephone" with its prophetic lyrics, "They're locking them up today, they're throwing away the key/I wonder who it will be tomorrow, you or me?" Rhino's remastered version of the album edition brings out every nuance of the original recording, particularly the flamenco flourish of the near-hit "Alone Again Or," while the seven bonus tracks include demos, alternate takes, the band's final 1968 single and a studio tape of Lee cajoling his band from the producer's chair, showing how driven his muse once was. (WASHBURN)
Although it has all the orchestrated trappings of a sunshine pop record, Forever Changes is far from a tiptoe through the tulips. The album is as harrowing as it's beautiful to listen to, and Arthur Lee's confusion and paranoia come through in every song. When coupled with the baroque, psychedelic arrangements, it turns into a nearly perfect album.
