Oh, yeah, baby. Dig this groovy psychedelic smorgasboard from a peace- loving pair of overzealous studio tinkerers. Not to say that's all bad. Think of it as G-rated psychedelic fun for the whole family. Transfigured Night is a marriage of early Pink Floyd and possibly Peter, Paul and Mary.

The song "Apple Tree Part One," is probably the most exemplary of Ebeling Hughes' modernized psychedelic slant: it's a jejune Shel Silverstein- like fable featuring, yes, a talking apple tree. You see, dear readers, Ebeling Hughes were "walking through the apple orchard late last night" when they happened upon this rather articulate and somewhat telepathic apple tree, with a voice that booms in low Satanic tones. "Hello, I'm an apple tree/ please let my blossoms be," demands the tree. And where does the story go? No one really knows, kids.

These fey nature boys tend to choke themselves on mouthfuls of silly verbal detritus. There's a song written from the point of view of a Butterfly: "We began as eggs/ Oh, how they sparkled in the sun/ Then we made our cocoons." Later they question the existence of a higher being on the acoustic "My Deity." And there's the lazy, dreamy mindlessness of "The Wine Song:" "We're gonna have a picnic today, I've packed some fruit/ Please don't forget the way/ We'll eat cheese and bread and have a real swell time." Tiny Tim would've been proud, wouldn't he?

Atmospherically, these gents are into lots of outdoorsy sounds (chirping crickets, etc.) and rely heavily on the vintage feel of Hammond organs. They employ enough echo effects to intimidate the Grand Canyon, while the amount of flanging, phase- shifting and other studio chicanery they utilize borders on the absurd. But mainly, Ebeling Hughes are innocent of most major musical crimes. Obviously, they aren't out to make any political statements or grand social commentary. When the winds of muse tickle the lyre strings in their heads, Ebeling Hughes just begin whispering delicate non-sequiturs and platitudes over these shimmering multi- layered trip- scapes.

After all the purple haze clears, though, the songcraft comes off too stylized and contrived. Unlike Mercury Rev, the masters of new- school psychedelia, Ebeling Hughes' attempt at making the next Sgt. Pepper or Dark Side of the Moon is a tad obvious and forced. Still, with enough magic elixir and pixie dust in your system, Ebeling Hughes could serve you well, brother. If you're into the Floyd circa Meddle, and you aren't easily nauseated by lyrics that float along by way of cloying acid-trip catch- phrasing, then I guess Transfigured Night could prove to be quite a hoot.

-Michael Sandlin