If my memory banks serve me right, the 'recording studio' was actually a house with a couple of tape recorders in it - does anyone remember for sure?
Imagine the grandiose style of a Diamond Head epic displaced by ten years, or maybe conjure up an image of 'Silver Machine' era Hawkwind concentrating on musical ability instead of magic mushrooms - these are the only tenuous links with this record and well-known parallels. In terms of mood and atmosphere, Tractor land firmly on the grandiose and mystical side, whilst the execution (and recording!) is rudimentary but angry and attacking; alternatively there's a leaning towards a simple, warm acoustic flavour that blends with Jim Milne's rich vocals superbly.
The album opens with what ought to be a synth but clearly isn't - Milne's control of a massively distorted guitar sound predates Queen's 'no synths' boast by some twelve months and obviously has none of their technological resources to call on. He plays with the sort of sound that could come from a Woolworths amp and yet contrives to turn it into something huge and aggressive, snarling like a Doberman with toothache.
Drummer Steve Clayton's busy clattering away on the cross-rhythms that successfully fill out the sound, but the focus is very much on Milne - where the hell is he now? "All Ends Up"'s bitter declamation of the music business sharks is probably a pointer - Tractor were doubtless far too paranoid for their own good.