Gary Epps' Thru my Eyes, 1980

It certainly seems outrageous that people can still dig up great albums, totally unknown to even the "cratedigger" cognoscenti, after the innumerable from this period that have been resuscitated year after crazy year, in terms of Greek philosophy more than the reckoning of the grains of sand on all the beaches of the earth.  Particularly in the US late seventies blended dept. of aor-fusion-prog-ssw, there still seem so many.  Here's one that truly surprised me by the strength of the compositions and the wonderful variety the band is able to showcase.  In the database, thanks to apps for entering the information, perhaps for finding this, it's clear this is a one-off and a private pressing.  Right away I can't help but comment on the photos they used,  I think it's well worth arguing over which, front or back, is more egregious, the tanktop-wearing cowboy in a desert diorama howling at the moon, or the disco dude with shirt collar larger than the now-retired supersonic Concorde's wings?

Track a2, called Too Few Answers, brings the quasi-fusion home to you, baby:





Those were the days "my friend, we hoped they'd never end..."

But it just keeps getting more interesting, I found track A5 (Quake Of Your Smile) to be shockingly well composed:





So many thanks to the multitude of people who bring these lost treasures back to me and all of us.