Outsiders who had a premonition of the end of the psychedelic, love-drenched hippy dream while strung out in the middle of it, Love created a true masterpiece in Forever Changes.

Peripheral actors in the Los Angeles peace and love movement, frontman Arthur Lee’s group created a dichotomous magic trick with their third album. A lush, obtuse work infused with flavours of latin brass, strings and a sideways mutation of the psychedelic rock the band had pioneered previously, Lee’s vision here is apocalpytic lyrically, rolling about in elegy and a doomed inevitability while at the same time sounding opulent, playful and even optimistic in parts.

In truth Love had, by the album’s recording in 1967, descended into early heroin addiction and acid-crystalized egotistic paranoia. Famously sequestered in Bela Legosi’s Hollywood “Castle,” the group’s masteriece emerged chiefly as a complete vision formed by Arthur Lee, who often competed with fellow songwriter Bryan MacLean in the group. Injected with a darkness and sensitivity, it was in stark contrast to its surroundings. Seemingly foreseeing the end of the age of Aquarius, the coming of a paradigm of selfishness and greed, Love’s music simultaneously transcended its time while being an often damning indictment of it. It’s also simply one of the most kind and hedonistic things you can do to your ears.

Recorded partially with session musicians before being finished by the core group, Lee added the horn and string sessions last, though they are an essential and integral part of the album’s make up. The final album recording by the original Love, Forever Changes is often and rightly referred to as one of the greatest albums of all time. As a set of songs it re-wrote and invented several rules of songwriting while remaining multi-layered, mysterious, a true work of creative genius. As a recorded musical work it stands as one of pop music’s biggest achievements.

When it was originally released by Elektra, the album was available in mono and stereo. Since its 1967 unveiling, the album has been remastered (there are reports that original pressings in both mono and stereo were plagued with surface noise and weak audio signal) and re-presented in several forms but the original 1967 Mono edition has never been available on vinyl since, save one £300+ per copy edition released via audiophile label Electric Recording Company.

We’re extremely excited to immerse ourselves in one of our favourite albums in this hitherto unheard version. You can join the fun by ordering a Mono version of Forever Changes here. Early reports are that it sounds powerful, direct and alive. We’re here for that.