Like many a late-'60s album pressed in extremely minute quantities, Hickory Wind's self-titled record is a mighty odd bird. It's not so much that any one song is weird. It's more the cumulative effect of the record, in which the band not only don't seem to be seriously pursuing one direction in particular, but don't seem to be particularly serious about pursuing anything. The nonchalant, naive, slightly off-key way they trundle through this mixture of garage rock, country-rock, and melodramatic teen pop almost gives the impression of B-grade session players recruited to record an exploitation album.

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