Maffitt / Davies: Kingswood Manor (EMI, 1968)
A chap from Iowa, born in 1940. A chap from New York born in 1942. Put them together and it could be dynamite. Well, actually it was dynamite, for quite some time, though, sadly, the vast majority of the world never took any notice. However, we can help, if only through the medium of having a listen, deciding that, you know what, as groovily psychedelic American folk-pop goes this is really rather good, then doing something alarming and marvellous like buying it (yes, you're right, that is the wrong cover).
Kingswood Manor was written by the rather brilliant Hoyt Axton and is a meditation on addiction, depression and madness. A doctor arrives with a handful of "little pills" and promises he's come, "to rescue me from the maddening, saddening gloom, in the paisley rubber room...". With the down-tuned guitars, flattened harmonies and general air of pie-eyed craziness it reminds me of David Crosby's Laughing which is about as glowing a recommendation as I can muster, tbh.