Sold Date: September 17, 2021
Start Date: September 14, 2021
Final Price: $15.00 (USD)
Seller Feedback: 4119
Buyer Feedback: 8

This vinyl is in EX Condition. Play-graded on the Linn LP12. It has a few superficial sleeve scuffs but no scratches, obvious pops or skips. It will play with minimal surface noise, maybe slight crackle in a couple of quiet passages or perhaps occasionally between tracks. NOT A NM "forever" copy, but a quality play copy. The jacket  is  Vg+ With no ring wear & slight corner / edge wear as shown. 

I grade Conservatively according to goldmine standards. This is a true EX copy. Will be cleaned on the VPI before shipping. Ships free via media mail.

This record is part of a collection of about 1000 records that I’m selling for my personal collection. Most of the collection is near mint NM vinyl. Rock ‘n’ roll, jazz, country and R&B Albums will all be included in this sale. Please send an email if you were looking for something specific. Thank you.

If ever there were a manifesto for 1970s rock, one that prefigured both the decadence of the decade's burgeoning heavy metal and prog rock excesses and the rage of punk rock, "This Ain't the Summer of Love," the opening track from , 's fourth album, was it. The irony was that while the cut itself came down firmly on the hard rock side of the fence, most of the rest of the album didn't.  was co-produced by longtime Cult record boss , , and newcomer , and in addition, the band's lyric writing was being done internally with help from poet-cum-rocker  (who also sings on "The Revenge of Vera Gemini"). , a major contributor to the band's songwriting output, received a solitary credit while critic , whose words were prevalent on the Cult's previous outings, was absent. The album yielded the band's biggest single with "(Don't Fear) The Reaper," a multi-textured, deeply melodic soft rock song with psychedelic overtones, written by guitarist . The rest of the album is ambitious in that it all but tosses aside 's proto-metal stance and instead recontextualizes their entire stance. It's still dark, mysterious, and creepy, and perhaps even more so, it's still rooted in rock posturing and excess, but gone is the nihilistic biker boogie in favor of a more tempered -- indeed, nearly pop arena rock -- sound that gave 's keyboards parity with 's guitar roar, as evidenced by "E.T.I.," "Debbie Denise," and "True Confessions." This is not to say that  abandoned their adrenaline rock sound entirely. Cuts like "Tattoo Vampire" and "Sinful Love" have plenty of feral wail in them. Ultimately,  is a solid record, albeit a startling one for fans of the band's earlier sound. It also sounds like one of restless inspiration, which is, in fact, what it turned out to be given the recordings that came after. It turned out to be 's last consistent effort until they released  in 1981.