Album: Electric Ladyland

Complex says: Yet another Hendrix elegy for the end of Western civilization when folk will mutate into eroticized water breathers. This was as close as he came to writing his own symphony, in a form he described as a “sound-painting.” Anyone else could only have made this in the studio, but as guitarist Mike Bloomfield once intimated, there's no sonic effect Hendrix got in the studio or with pedals that he wasn't capable of getting right before your eyes with just an overdriven amp, those humongus mitts he called hands, and his weapon of choice, any old upside down Fender Stratocaster that happened to be lounging about.