The first synthy burblings and echo-drenched guitars of title track ‘Monolith Of Phobos’, herald what once would have been termed experimental, but now sounds merely quaint – in a good way. The teaming of avant-rock bass player, Les Claypool, and privileged dilettante Sean Lennon has resulted in a space-rock psychedelic gumbo.
Recorded over a six-week period, the pair have written 10 songs and an instrumental which pay affectionate and humorous tribute to Syd-era Pink Floyd, seasoned with Claypool’s distinctive, raspy, stuttering bass lines. Self-produced and self-indulgent – again, that’s not meant in a bad way – there are no teams of song-crafters here, no target-audience being second-guessed – just two like-minded musicians mucking about in the studio.
 Despite the genetic confluence of Lennon’s parentage, much of the material veers closer to McCartney’s brand of toytown whimsy. The protagonist of ‘Maxwell’s Silver Hammer’ is echoed in the, “creeping, creeping, creeping” voyeuristic deviancy of ‘Mr Wright’, who sets up his camera in order to watch girls pee. Archetypal ‘60s-style vignettes are further explored on ‘Captain Lariat’, a pompous and useless military buffoon, and ‘Oxycontin Girl’, a poor-little-rich-girl addicted to opiates, whose lips are turning “so blue, so blue.”
There might be some sort of concept album in here but it would require someone stoned enough to make the connections. And good luck with that if you’re going to attempt it. I had a nice cup of tea while listening and there was plenty of fun to be had, without ever delving too deep. 
_Out Now

Rating:7/10
Key track: 'Cricket And The Genie'