Tusk is perfect because it is flawed in musically intriguing ways. It's an off-balance, asymmetrical record, sort of like an enormous concrete sculpture held up by the tiniest pin--or something. It doesn't feel like a coherent statement: rather a series of statements which add up to something approaching an attitude.
It continues to baffle. And that is oddly pleasing.
For what it's worth, I get very similar thoughts when I listen to Then Play On.
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