Sandy Bull was a label mate of John Fahey's during his time at Vanguard and his contribution to contemporary guitar modes was as crucial as Fahey's, even while Fahey remained inexplicably dismissive, not to say borderline hostile, at the very mention of his name. Early on, Bull flashed on a syncretic combination of American blues form, free jazz based improvisation, Indian raga forms and applied electricity. The result was an Ur-drone music that amplified the static black space at the heart of the deepest blues while making unlikely connections to the phantom architectures of Bach and early music composers like William Byrd albeit transmuting it via higher-minded techniques drawn from Indian devotional music and amplified rock ritual. Still Valentine's Day is the first ever live album from Bull, documenting two massively potent solo shows from San Francisco's Matrix in 1969, one of them on the same bill as Fahey, with Fahey's portion of the show already documented on Water's previous Great Santa Barbara Oil Slick CD. The first set sees Bull on electric guitar, the second on Oud and both sets are thick with the same kind of heady magic and effortlessly psychedelic minimalism that Dylan so convincingly conjured from the air in his 1966 acoustic performances. Indeed, the opening version of Bach's "Bouree" is one of the most supremely LSD-damaged elegies to ever come from his hands, with whole webs of lucid baroque majesty strung like slow-spinning stars held in form-blurring gravities. And the way he skirts the melody on Chuck Berry's "Memphis TN" is uniquely inventive. He remains one of the most significant secret influences on modern underground thought. The whole deal comes beautifully packaged in a card slipcase with a booklet that includes snaps and extensive liners by Byron Coley. Highly recommended.