Trip-O-Meter: 4 out of 5
Lucifer is a psudonym for Mort Garson, the electronic madman behind freaky early electronic works such as "The Wozard of Iz." This purely instrumental album isn't quite as strange, but the wall of Moog synth that makes up the instrumentation is still something impressive to behold. It's chock full of that awesome analog clunky sound that so many musicians still strive for.
When I've strolled through Disneyland's Tomorrowland (at least the Tokyo version), they're usually setting the future-retro mood with stuff like the wacky pop interpretations of the Moog Cookbook. Some of this could fit in that mold, but with minor keys abound, the tracks here would probably serve better in the hellish variety of Disneyland; y'know, the one where Donald Duck is creeping behind you with a butcher's knife. That's pretty much where this disc is at.
Trackwise, there are a lot of goodies here. "Solomon's Ring" launches with a soaring yet creepy Moog melody, while "Incubus" dementedly contorts basic synthesizer sounds into a kind of electronic warning system. "The Evil Eye" almost gives us a soothing break, but let's keep in mind that it is quickly underpinned by electronic evil. Later on, we are presented with the sound lab of "Philosopher's Stone," while "ESP" closes the album with what sounds like an alien armada landing (maybe Garson was going for the opening of the gates of Hell).
While not necessarily the best of primitive electronic music, Lucifer does press most of the right buttons for those of us wanting to hear this sort of thing. It's trying to conjure the ghost in the machine using the darkest of magic, and for the most part it succeeds. You can merrily join along for this particular black mass.