The Steamtrain's First Recording. A classic, recorded by the boys themselves. This one is from the days before Joe and Ken joined the band. It's a little more lo-fi and a little more personal. Most of the songs are still a big part of the Steamtrain's live shows.

Life is safer and more exciting on Girl Planet than anywhere else in the shag-o-sphere. The songs on this joyous-beast-of-a-record range from brilliant to better, from fiery to feathery. It has more sexedhelic horsepower than an octopus has suction; more groove than a grove has leaves; and more taste than an elephant has daydreams. Lord Russ' valiant voice takes no prisoners and requires no cheerleaders. It is a voice laced with a wistful gusto reminiscent of those sandbox days, when every kind of bird, from robin to grackle to partridge, rained down its blue and lonely syllables of vulnerable intimacy and a heartbreaking desire to never be fully understood. And what can one say about the melodious antics of that tireless rapscallion bassist (lanky ham), Señor Ohlenbusch, that hasn't already been said by a million fireflies copulating in a crepuscular glade preparing for an evening of divine ballet? To say he is a lean, clean, clown-engined machine, would be overstressing the girth of his poetic breadth. The drummer, Monsignor Todd, is a genuine whirligig of carnal badinage, a blistering wilderness of rhythmical conundrums, or in plainer english, let's just say he kicks enough bottom to qualify him for eternal citizenship on that groovy little swinging globe known as Girl Planet. So, fasten your sweet-belts, mates, because The Aloha Steamtrain is less a band than they are an omnivorous carnival of hotpink persuasion, whose noble (albeit libidinous) mission is to free the willies and thaw the digits of every frozen man on earth, and to add cinnamon and mischief to the bubblebaths of every woman's privacy. So, goodbye headaches, farewell doldrums, adios ulcers, The Aloha Steamtrain, like its kissable cousin, The Little Red Caboose, is enroute to Toytown as we speak, lugging its cargo of erotic delights and eclectic wonders, for all the boys and girls to share, as they will one day share each other.

-Connolly Ryan P.I.