Everyone that's written about Spiritualized thus far have felt compelled to mention that it's "drug music." Despite the fact that the category "drug music" is almost as meaningless as "cork music," I have, with great consternation, chosen not only to follow in the footsteps of the other lurid reviewers before me, but to take the terminology a step further, to where I like it: over the line of legality and good judgement.

I got the disc this past weekend from a friend in the radio biz (no thanks to Arista), just before he invited me onto the porch of my post- collegiate friends' bachelor paradise, with the express intention of, as they say, "smoking a bowl." Well, a happy half an hour later, my friend invited me down into his basement to shoot some pool and hang out. Unfortunately, pool requires a manual dexterity that I happened to be lacking at that moment, but the full- sized arcade- version of Q-Bert in the corner was beckoning me. I commandeered the stereo, threw Spiritualized in, turned it up LOUD, and took my post at the game, slapping the 1-player button. Beginning with a distant voice saying, "Ladies and gentlemen, we are floating in space," then fading slowly into the circuitous first track, I was mad with Q-Bert, fleeing Coily the Springy Snake and desperately trying not to let the cubes flip perspective. The slow building of the first track was epic, my blood beginning to coarse in rhythm and my game- play suddenly became a dance, a ballet of the video game. Oh yes. I flowed into the crying harmonicas, horns and throbbing guitar chords of "Come Together." Level 3, the gray level. Who was the madman that could have designed such a simple yet twisted game? "Come Together" built into a crescendo and flowed into the airy and distant beginnings of "I Think I'm In Love," which later congeals into a syncopated dance between a lazy drum, an ambitious brass section, and numerous other layers of instruments. It was just then, just as I tipped over the high score, that I felt a tap on the shoulder and turned to find a beautiful girl behind me (who I hadn't even noticed in my electronic ecstacy), who said, "Do you mind if I take this disc out? It'd be great for the bath, but we're partying." I sighed and assented, allowing the greater good of the party to prevail once again.

Later, back home and straight, I began to wonder why everyone was calling it "drug music," except for the obvious reason that the packaging is intentionally designed to look like a prescription pill box. ("What constitutes Spiritualized tablets?") Since the Q-Bert experience, I've spent quite a lot of time taking my Spiritualized prescription as directed, and have come to the conclusion that it's a fabulous recording on any level. While a bit off- putting with first listen, the odd combination of sleepy English pop- star vocals, persistent brass, meandering guitars and smooth electronic gloss is certainly out of the ordinary, but certain tracks have earned my everlasting admiration for their original sound and delicate instrument combinations. The conclusion track, "Cop Shoot Cop...," is a beautiful achievement in mellow meandering that manages to maintain motivation, direction and interest through its 17 minutes (gulp!). Floating In Space requires a touch of patience and a desire to probe its depths, but the reward is well worth the investment. Sure, you can take a pull from the bong, get rolling on e, or fuck to your heart's content with the music as your soundtrack, but if you're down with the natural high known as life, don't write it off as '90s psychedelia, baby. It's better than that.

-James P. Wisdom