4 Star Review in Rolling Stone, Feb. 10th, 1994 by Parke Puterbaugh:

Forget about those nine robed stiffs laying out the law in the nation's capital. Weld deranged Southern-cracker humor to a guitar that blows as hot as an acetylene torch and you've got an inkling of what this other, far more intentionally entertaining Supreme Court is all about. Had Flannery O'Connor formed a rock band, it would have sounded something like this. Supreme Court Goes Electric presents a gallery of colorful characters who are dealing with urge overkill in a variety of time-tested ways: hitting the road or the bottle, cheating on the wife, blowing it all in Vegas, pontificating loomily on the corner, vowing revenge on the world. The chief architects behind the Court are vocalist and rhythm guitarist Jeff Calder of the Swimming Pool Q's and uberguitarist Glenn Phillips, who has been cutting an instrumental swath through uncharted terrain for more than two decades. Their collaboration could have staying power because it solves a problem for both men: It gets Calder back into a band, and it matches Phillips-whose all instrumental projects have met unyielding resistance from small minded A&R types crying, "No commercial potential"- with a cunning, idiosyncratic singer and songwriter. Calder's nut-house vocals- especially on deranged soliloquies such as "King Fried Jackass" and "Hot Potato"- mimic the railings of the deliriously dispossessed, sun-crazed scions of the South. More pathetic characters are treated with compassion. Towards the end of "Oblivion is For Jokers," the rantings of a New Orleans panhandler turn into a magical incantation to higher powers. A handful of more reflective tunes- like the dreamy opening track "Children Sleeping"- are strewed throughout the album. By cutting the madcap commentary with more sympathetic material like this, they have shown there can be balance on the Supreme Court after all-at least on the version that uses guitars instead of gavels, that is.